THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


A  NATION  AT  BAY 


Kutli  S.   Faniani 


AJNATION  AT  BAY 

What  an  American  Woman 
Saw  and  Did  in  Suffering  Serbia 


RUTH  S/TARNAM 


WITH  THIRTY  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Many  of  them  from  Photographs 
Taken  by  the  Author 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


J   /     vj    I 


Copyright,  1918 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


PRESS  or 

BRAUNWORTH    a    CO. 

BOOK    MANUFACTURER* 

BROOKLYN.    N.    V. 


TO  THE 

DEVOTED  WORKERS 

WHO  LIVED  AND  SUFFERED 
AND  DIED  IN  SESBIA 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

I.  A  BACKWARD  GLANCE    ....       1 
II.  MY  FIRST  INTRODUCTION  TO  WAR  IN 

SERBIA 11 

III.  A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY  OF  OUR 

GAME  LITTLE  ALLY   ....     24 

IV.  THE  PLOT 45 

V.  THE  DEBACLE 50 

VI.  HELLS  ON  EARTH 57 

VII.  THE  CALL 66 

VIII.  THROUGH  BEAUTIFUL  SERBIA       .       .     78 

IX.  AT  WORK 88 

X.  AUSTRIAN  PRISONERS     ....     96 

XI.  THE  RETURN 103 

XII.  DOING  MY  BIT  IN  ENGLAND  AND  AMER- 
ICA          112 

XIII.  THROUGH  THE  WAR  ZONE    .       .       .119 

XIV.  EASTWARD  Ho! 130 

XV.  SALONIKA 148 

XVI.  OFF  TO  THE  FRONT        ....   155 

XVII.  "  THE  AMERICAN  UNIT  "...   163 

XVIII.  APPROACHING  THE  BATTLE  LINE         .  174 

XIX.  THE  BATTLE 185 

XX.  How  I  BECAME  A  SOLDIER  .       .       .   193 

XXI.  THE  RETURN 203 

APPEAL  OF  THE  SERBIAN  WOMEN  TO  ALL  SO- 
CIETIES OF  WOMEN  .  221 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


FAQS 

Photograph  used  by  the  author  on  passports    .     12 

Convalescents  at  Madame  Grouitch's  Hospital 
in  Belgrade,  1913 13 

General  Michael  Rashitch,  Leader  of  Serbian 
Army  in  Retreat  over  Albanian  Mountains  .     42 

Refugees  at  Iben 43 

Red  Cross  Hospital  Ship  "  Sphinx  "    .        .        .60 
English  home  of  the  author 61 

Outfitting  refugee  children  in  Macedonia  with 
clothing  from  America 74 

Mountains  over  which  the  Serbians  retreated   .  75 

Ilyia 86 

Austro-Slav  prisoners  at  Ghev  Gelya          .       .  87 

Quay  at  Salonika 98 

Place  Liberte,  Salonika,  (four  o'clock  any  day !)  99 

Recent  victims    of   gas    bombs    dropped   from 
enemy  aeroplanes  on  Monastir         .        .        .110 

Princess  Alexis  in  the  store-room  at  Vrintze          111 
Bringing  in  sick  civilians  at  Vrynatchka  Banya  122 

Prince  George  of  Serbia,  Admiral  Troubridge 
and  the  author 123 

Bulgarian  dead 134 

Bulgarian  trenches  near  Brod       ....   135 
Emily  Louisa  Simmonds 146 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


Crown  Prince's  Headquarters  near  Brod  .  .  147 
Colonel  Doctor  Sondermayer  ....  158 
The  White  Tower,  Salonika 159 

Major  Doctor  Gelibert  at  Salonika  and  Surgeons 
of  Scottish  Woman's  Hospital  .  .  .  .170 

Wounded  being  brought  in  on  mule-back  .        .   171 

Voivode  Mishitch,  Prof.  Reiss  and  Lieut.  Pros- 
kowetz 180 

Serbian  Field  Hospital  Camp  at  Vrbeni.  Rich- 
ard Wainwright,  Lieutenant  Proskowetz, 
Emily  Louisa  Simmonds 181 

Taken  during  the  battle  of  Brod.  Commander- 
in-Chief  Voivode  Mishitch,  Com.  of  Morava 
Div.  Col.  Milovanovitch,  Chief  of  Medical 
Service  Col.  Dr.  Sondermayer  and  the  author  194 

Czerna  Bend,  from  H.  Q.  O.  P 195 

Eleutherios  Venizelos,  Greek  Premier  .  .  208 
Vodena  .  209 


PREFACE 


MY  readers  will  see  why  I  cannot  send  this 
little  book  forth  without  at  least  craving  their 
indulgence.  Since  it  is  my  first  Book  it  will  doubt- 
less have  many  faults  but  in  it  I  have  tried  to  ex- 
press the  deep  emotions,  the  admiration  and  the 
respect  which  the  sight  of  Serbia's  great  courage 
has  aroused  in  me;  the  experiences  that  I  have 
had  in  that  beautiful,  suffering  country  and,  above 
all,  to  pay  tribute  to  the  noble  men  and  women 
of  England,  France  and  America  who  volunteered 
to  work  among  those  unhappy  people.  Men  and 
women  who  served  unfalteringly  amidst  the  most 
deadly  dangers  and  who,  in  many  cases,  laid  down 
their  lives  while  aiding  those  Serbian  heroes  who 
themselves  counted  life  as  naught  when  sacrificed 


xii  PREFACE 

for  flag  and  country.  Because  my  whole  heart 
is  in  this  book  I  offer  ic  to  a  generous  Public 
with  the  hope  that  it  may  increase  the  awakening 
interest  in  our  spendidly  brave  and  devoted  ally, 
Serbia. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

I  am  indebted  to  the  works  of  Voislav  Savic, 
Chedomille  Myatovitch  and  R.  W.  Seton  Watson 
for  historical  data.  I  also  wish  to  gratefully 
acknowledge  the  kindness  of  Richard  Wainwright, 
Esq.,  in  loaning  me  many  of  the  photographs  with 
which  this  volume  is  illustrated. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


A  NATION  AT  BAY 


A  NATION  AT  BAY 


CHAPTER  I 

A  BACKWARD  GLANCE 

WE  Americans  as  a  nation  have  never  exhibited 
a  great  deal  of  interest  in  European  affairs.  One 
might  say  that  we  were  almost  provincial  in  this 
regard,  isolated,  as  we  are,  by  the  vast  expanse 
of  ocean.  To  many  of  us  Europe  has  been  re- 
garded merely  as  a  place  to  visit  for  pleasure  or 
business. 

Such  places  as  Serbia  and  the  other  Balkan 
States  were  of  no  more  interest  to  us  than  Siberia 
or  Arabia.  We  heard  of  them  seldom,  except 
when  they  were  at  war.  And  the  impression  pre- 
vailed that  these  "half-civilized"  countries  spent 
most  of  their  time  fighting  with  one  another. 

We  were  so  wrapped  up  in  our  own  affairs  that 


2  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

we  had  no  place  in  our  thoughts  for  those  distant 
lands.  But  we  forgot  that  our  horizon  was  rapidly 
enlarging.  The  fast  ocean  steamers,  the  cables, 
the  expansion  of  our  foreign  trade — all  these 
things  were  quickly  bringing  the  far-off  peoples 
closer  to  us.  And  the  time  came  almost  before  we 
knew  it  when  the  internal  affairs  of  almost  every 
country  in  the  world  affected  us  in  some  vital  way. 

Yet  even  after  the  outbreak  of  the  European 
War  we  still  felt  that  we  had  no  national  interest 
in  it — that  we  were  not  affected — that  it  was  none 
of  our  affair.  In  fact  it  was  only  after  repeated 
insults  and  actual  acts  of  war  committed  against 
us  that  we  reluctantly  consented  to  enter  the  con- 
flict. Perhaps  the  bungling  German  intrigue  in 
Mexico  and  Japan  did  more  toward  awakening  us 
to  our  peril  than  anything  else. 

When  Austria  declared  war  on  Serbia  on  July 
28,  1914,  it  was  at  Germany's  bidding — and  Ger- 
many reckoned  on  a  great  world  conflagration  as 
the  outcome.  She  had  played  the  game  of  political 
chess  over  and  over  again  in  secret,  with  Austria, 
Turkey  and  Bulgaria  as  the  pawns,  and  she  had 


A  BACKWARD  GLANCE  \3 

proved  to  her  satisfaction  that  she  could  win  the 
game  when  the  time  came  to  play  it  in  public. 

The  United  States  was  taken  into  consideration 
— just  as  surely  as  was  France,  Russia  and  Eng- 
land— before  the  ultimatum  was  delivered  to  Ser- 
bia. And  yet  we  went  about  our  affairs  entirely 
unaware  of  any  plan  to  include  us  in  the  great 
game  of  world  domination.  Who  in  America  in 
July,  1914  could  foresee  that  the  result  of  the 
first  shot  fired  on  Serbia  would  be  the  sending  of 
millions  of  our  own  boys  to  Europe — even  to 
Serbia — to  save  civilization? 

And  now  that  we  are  in  it  to  a  successful  con- 
clusion, having  joined  hands  with  all  the  other 
countries  fighting  Germany  and  her  accomplices, 
we  are  becoming  intimately  acquainted  with  all  of 
our  Allies.  We  are  meeting  even  the  less-known 
ones  in  their  own  homes,  so  to  speak,  and  are  be- 
ginning to  feel  that  they  are  real  human  beings 
like  ourselves,  whose  acquaintanceship  we  are 
sorry  we  had  not  cultivated  long  ago. 

Serbia,  who  we  may  have  at  one  time  charged 
with  starting  the  war,  now  appears  to  us  in  a  dif- 


4  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

/ 

ferent  light  altogether.  By  a  backward  glance  at 
Serbia  we  may  learn  for  ourselves  a  little  about 
the  peculiar  sequence  of  events  which  culminated 
in  this  war — and  get  a  few  new  glimpses  of  a 
history  which  has  been  to  us  hitherto  either  utterly 
unknown  or  merely  a  half-told  tale. 

Many  years  have  elapsed  since  the  Austro- 
Hungarian  Government  began  to  trade  upon  the 
innate  loyalty  of  the  Serb.  When  Turkey  rolled 
her  hordes  over  the  famous  Field  of  Kossovo  in 
1389,  and  overwhelmed  the  Serbian  Armies,  tak- 
ing possession  of  the  land  and  crushing  Christian- 
ity under  her  iron  rule,  the  Serbs  looked  to  Aus- 
tria as  a  nation  of  fellow-Christians  for  aid.  This 
aid  Austria  pretended  she  would  give  while  she 
was  for  centuries  really  fostering  ill  feeling  be- 
tween the  Balkan  Slavs  and  Russia,  thinking  thus 
to  increase  her  own  influence  and  bring  under  her 
Empire  all  of  the  Serbians,  many  of  whom  had 
already  settled  in  Austria-Hungary. 

Jealousy  of  Russia  and  greed  of  extended 
power  were  her  motives  for  assuming  a  friendly 
mask  toward  the  Serbs.  But  she  did  not  hesitate 


A  BACKWARD  GLANCE  5 

to  cast  this  mask  aside  as  soon  as  it  suited  her 
to  do  so.  After  many  yc&rs  of  oppression  of  her 
own  Slav  subjects,  she  began  an  active  policy  of 
annexation  and  one  after  another  Bosnia,  Croatia, 
Herzegovina  and  Dalmatia  were  obliged  to  bow  to 
her  rule.  Having  a  secret  understanding  with 
King  Milan  of  Serbia,  she  plotted  to  destroy  Rus- 
sia's influence  in  the  Balkans  and  soon  succeeded 
in  rousing  Bulgaria  to  defy  her  great  protector, 
Russia,  whom  the  only  half-educated  Bulgarian 
politicians  suspected  of  wishing  to  hold  their 
country  as  a  Province. 

Prince  Alexander  of  Battenberg,  who  had  been 
placed  on  the  throne  of  the  new  Kingdom  of  Bul- 
garia, began  to  plan  for  the  union  of  divided  Bul- 
garia, whereupon  the  Serbian  King,  Milan,  im- 
mediately declared  war  upon  him.  Thus  Austria's 
well  laid  plot  had  succeeded.  She  was  able  to  play 
off  one  country  against  the  other  to  her  own  ad- 
vantage; her  ambition  being  to  gain  more  terri- 
tory in  the  direction  of  Salonika,  or  even  perhaps 
to  possess  that  part  of  Macedonia  in  its  entirety. 
As  this  war  resulted  disastrously  for  King 


6  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Milan,  he  appealed  to  Austria,  who  intervened  and 
exacted  a  fearful  price.  This  price  was  a  secret 
allegiance  whereby  King  Alexander,  Milan's  son 
and  successor,  became  entirely  a  tool  of  Austria. 

The  Serbians  now  found  their  ancient  Constitu- 
tion set  aside  and  Teutonic  influence  rampant  in 
the  land — for  we  must  not  forget  that  in  recent 
years  Prussia  has  always  been  behind  the  central 
European  intrigues.  The  people  murmured,  and 
struggled  to  disengage  themselves  from  the  Octo- 
pus-like tentacles  which  were  strangling  them. 
Their  effort  at  last  culminated  in  the  terrible 
tragedy  at  Belgrade  in  June,  1903,  when  the  un- 
happy Alexander  and  his  wife,  Draga,  met  their 
doom  at  the  hands  of  a  few  stern  and  uncom- 
promising men,  who  had  been  driven  to  despera- 
tion by  the  sight  of  their  country's  impending 
ruin. 

Under  the  rule  of  the  new  King,  Peter  Kara- 
georgevitch,  who  was  placed  on  the  throne  after 
the  death  of  Alexander,  Serbia  began  to  recover 
herself,  and  her  devoted  people  to  know  once  more 
the  advantages  of  liberty  and  the  blessings  of  at 


A  BACKWARD    GLANCE  7 

least  some  measure  of  peace.  Schools  began  to 
spring  up  in  the  villages,  and  manufactures  of 
many  kinds  flourished;  but  jealous  Austria,  ma- 
lignant Turkey  and  treacherous  Bulgaria  lay 
ever  in  wait  at  her  gates. 

Then  in  1912  came  the  war  with  Turkey.  After 
this  Austria  prepared  to  attack  Serbia,  and  only 
postponed  doing  so  because  of  her  inability  to 
secure  the  consent  and  co-operation  of  Italy. 
But  Bulgaria,  thirsting  for  revenge  because  she 
had  not  received  what  she  considered  her  share 
of  the  spoils  in  Macedonia  and  secretly  abetted 
by  Austria-Hungary,  attacked  the  little  nation 
and,  it  is  needless  to  say,  was  well  thrashed  for 
her  pains. 

By  this  time  Serbia  was  fully  awake  to  her 
danger.  She  sharpened  her  sword,  she  filled  her 
munition  depots,  collected  stores  and  equipped 
her  armies.  She  could  see  looming  before  her  a 
great  war,  waged  by  the  three  countries  which 
were  bent  on  her  extermination.  Dauntless  and 
ready,  facing  these  enemies,  many  times  her  own 
size,  brave  Serbia  stood — a  Nation  at  Bay. 


8  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

In  July  1914  the  expected  attack  came.  How 
she  fought  in  this  war,  which  since  then  has  em- 
broiled practically  the  entire  world;  how  she 
fought  and  won  again,  then  for  a  time  lay  helpless 
under  the  lash  of  a  pestilence,  shunned  in  that 
dark  hour  by  her  enemies,  then  rose  to  her  feet 
weak  and  tottering  again  gallantly  to  face  the  foe ; 
how  the  traitor,  Bulgaria,  came  slinking  to  share 
the  spoils,  and  how  devoted  Serbia  fought  and 
strove,  calling  vainly  for  the  western  Allies  to 
come  to  her  aid;  how  at  last  these  friends  pre- 
vailed upon  her  army  to  evacuate  the  beloved 
country  that  it  could  no  longer  hold — to  take 
refuge  under  the  wings  of  these  Allies  until  its 
awful  wounds  could  be  bound  up  and  its  starving 
soldiers  fed,  rearmed  and  reclothed  that  they 
might  return  by  a  new  route  and  fight  again  for 
the  freedom  and  honor  of  Serbia — this  story  of 
courage  and  sacrifice,  of  suffering  and  devotion, 
will  fill  many  pages  of  history  for  future  genera- 
tions. 

My  own  country  is  now  at  war  with  Germany 
and  Austria  and  though  I  am  a  member  of  the 


A  BACKWARD  GLANCE  9 

Royal  Serbian  Army  I  am  also  a  true  American. 
I  know  what  our  boys  will  have  to  face  and  I 
know,  too,  that  they  are  as  brave  as  any  other 
soldiers  of  the  Allied  Nations — and  now  they  have 
the  opportunity  to  prove  it.  They  will  face  a 
cruel,  cunning,  desperate  foe — and  they  will  con- 
quer and  drive  him  back — yes,  back  to  Berlin. 
Worthy  of  our  highest  traditions  will  our  Army 
prove  itself.  Worthy  of  that  flag  which  we  all 
love — the  Flag  on  which  the  stripes  represent  our 
National  Honor,  which  has  never  yet  been 
stained.  Those  crimson  bands  which  were  dyed 
a  deeper  red  by  our  fathers'  blood  on  the  battle- 
field: while  that  field  of  midnight  blue — not  so 
dark,  alas!  as  the  night  of  pain  which  now  pre- 
vails in  Europe — holds  the  shining  stars  of  our 
National  Ideals. 

Today  there  can  be  no  such  word  as  "pacifist." 
We  are  at  war.  Men  and  women  wrho  live  under 
the  protection  of  the  American  Flag  and  claim 
the  privileges  of  American  citizenship  can  be  only 
one  of  two  things — Patriot  or  Traitor !  That  we 
should  uphold  our  Government  in  its  effort  to 


10  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

bring  this  war  to  a  speedy  and  successful  con- 
clusion, that  we  should  each  one  of  us  do  our 
share  cheerfully  and  gladly  to  that  end:  that  we 
should  avoid  destructive  criticism,  placing  our- 
selves at  the  disposal  of  our  great  Chief  Executive 
as  the  indispensable  cogs  of  the  great  machine  of 
State — this  is  our  clear  and  bounden  duty. 

If  we  Americans,  each  and  all,  do  our  duty  soon 
it  will  be  no  longer  heroic  Serbia  who  is  "The 
Nation  at  Bay"  but  "Germany  at  Bay!"  May 
we  so  wage  this,  our  war,  as  to  prove  by  sword 
and  Right  that  as  our  fathers  fought  for  our 
freedom  so  shall  we  fight  until  the  Blonde  Beast 
Prussia  is  finally  crushed  and  the  World  set  free 

forever. 

*          *          * 

In  bhis  little  book  I  have  tried  to  tell  something 
of  the  small  part  I  played  in  this  great  fight ;  how 
I,  a  stranger,  knowing  little  of  the  country  and 
less  of  its  people,  was  impressed  by  its  heroism 
and  devotion  and  was  finally  caught  up  in  the 
whirl  of  its  magnificent  struggle  against  the  evils 
which  my  own  country  now  is  prepared  to  attack. 


CHAPTER  II 

MY  FIEST  INTRODUCTION  TO  WAR  IN  SERBIA 

"!T  reminds  me,"  I  said,  "a  little  of  Naples  with 
the  beggars  lying  about  in  the  sunshine." 

"There  are  no  beggars  here,"  replied  Madame 
Grouitch.  "These  are  sick  soldiers,  just  back 
from  the  war,  and  there  is  no  place  in  the  city 
where  they  can  be  taken  in." 

On  leaving  the  station  in  Belgrade,  I  saw  num- 
bers of  men  in  their  dust-colored  rags,  sitting  on 
the  steps  or  lying  on  the  ground  under  the  trees. 
In  my  ignorance  I  had  mistaken  them  for  beggars. 
A  broiling  sun  poured  its  rays  down  on  them,  and 
sometimes  a  man  would  moan  and  feebly  roll  over 
to  gain  the  welcome  shade  of  a  stunted  tree.  I 
was  told  that  at  night  the  carts  would  go  around 
and  gather  up  the  dead.  Every  hospital  was  full 
to  overflowing  and  nearly  every  house  had  as  its 
honored  guests,  sick  and  wounded  soldiers. 

11 


12  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

This  was  in  August,  1913.  I  had  been  in  Serbia 
before,  during  the  Turkish  war,  and  when  I 
received  an  invitation  at  this  time  to  come  to  Bel- 
grade to  see  the  return  of  the  victorious  Serbian 
Army  after  defeating  Bulgaria  in  the  Second  Bal- 
kan War,  I  went  gladly. 

Madame  Grouitch,  who  is  a  charming  American 
woman  from  Virginia  and  the  wife  of  a  Serbian 
diplomat,  was  doing  marvelous  work  for  her 
adopted  country.  Unable  to  bear  the  thought  of 
these  heroic  men  exposed  to  such  suffering,  after 
their  splendid  campaign,  she  went  to  the  Govern- 
ment and  demanded  that  one  of  the  school  build- 
ings be  turned  over  to  her  during  the  vacation. 
In  this  large  school  she  founded  an  auxiliary  hos- 
pital, which  was  called  "The  22d  Reserve  Hos- 
pital." She  went  to  the  merchants  and  towns- 
people and  asked  for  beds  and  other  furnishings. 
Then  she  had  the  sick  and  dying  men  gathered 
up  and  laid  on  these  beds,  under  a  roof  for  the 
first  time  in  many  months. 

Because  the  people  of  Belgrade  had  previously 
given  nearly  all  they  had,  the  fitting  out  of  this 


Photograph  used  by  the   author  on   passports 


INTRODUCTION  TO  WAR  IS 

hospital  was  of  the  crudest  description.  The  beds 
on  which  the  fevered  soldiers  lay  were  simply  the 
iron  frames  with  three  pieces  of  board  laid  across. 
On  this  comfortless  foundation  were  placed  large 
sacks  filled  with  straw.  Smaller  sacks  formed  the 
hard  pillows. 

There  was  no  bed  linen  and  no  clean  cloth- 
ing. In  the  city  there  was  a  college,  in  which 
young  orphan  girls  from  every  part  of  Serbia 
were  being  trained  as  teachers.  So  we  sent 
up  there  and  to  the  extent  of  our  funds,  we  got 
sheets  and  pillow  cases,  of  coarse  cotton,  and 
shirts  and  drawers  for  the  men. 

These  garments  served  a  double  purpose  since 
they  could  be  used  first  as  hospital  clothing  and 
later  when  a  man  left  the  hospital  he  had  only  to 
add  the  heavy  socks  and  untanned  leather  sandals, 
a  home-spun  waistcoat  and  wide  girdle  to  be  com- 
pletely clad  in  the  peasant  manner. 

One  day  a  large  bag  was  brought  into  the 
"Gymnasium,"  one  of  the  wards,  and  its  contents 
dumped  on  the  floor.  There  were  about  a  dozen 
garments  in  the  heap  and  it  was  hard  to  tell  which 


14  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

were  coats  and  which  trousers,  they  were  so 
ragged  and  worn.  All  were  stiff  with  dirt  and 
great  blackish  stains  of  blood.  Clean-edged  cuts 
of  bayonet  thrusts  were  there  and  jagged  holes 
told  of  more  terrible  wounds.  Not  a  garment  was 
fit  for  use. 

One  boy  of  twenty  looked  at  a  particularly 
shapeless  rag  and  said  cheerfully,  "Yes,  that  was 
my  coat.  Luckily  I  will  only  need  two-thirds  of 
it  anyway,  now."  His  right  arm  was  gone ! 

It  was  very  hot  and  there  was  a  glare  of  light 
from  the  high  uncurtained  windows  and  the  flies 
were  so  awful  that  the  men  could  only  sleep  by 
burying  their  faces  in  the  hard,  hot  pillows. 
Most  of  the  younger  men,  however,  Avere  appa- 
rently as  cheerful  as  if  they  had  no  care  in  the 
world;  but  some  of  the  older  ones  lay  patiently, 
day  after  da}',  looking  at  us  with  great  hopeless 
eyes  that  pierced  our  hearts.  Many  had  lost  an 
arm  or  a  leg  and  their  minds  could  only  ponder 
on  how  their  wives  and  families  were  to  live  and 
bear  this  extra  burden.  Serbian  families  are  as 
a  rule  very  large  and  the  people  are  very  poor, 


INTRODUCTION  TO  WAR  15 

and  all  must  work  hard,  so  a  maimed  man  knows 
himself  to  be  a  sad  drag. 

But  no  man  uttered  one  word  of  complaint  and 
none  regretted  his  sacrifice  for  Mother  Serbia. 
Their  gratitude  for  anything  we  could  do  for 
them  was  touching,  though  they  were  absolutely 
frank  in  their  comments. 

One  day,  under  the  tuition  of  a  young  Serbian 
orderly,  I  made  Turkish  coffee  for  the  men.  They 
are  very  fond  of  it  and  will  drink  large  quantities 
of  the  syrupy  stuff.  When  the  little  cups  had 
been  drained,  I  proudly  asked,  "Was  it  good?" — 
thinking  to  be  commended. 

"Not  very,"  came  the  reply.  It  was  several 
days  before  a  chorus  of  "Dobro,"  (Good)  re- 
warded my  efforts  and  they  seemed  really  pleased 
for  my  sake  that  they  could  at  last  approve. 

We  had  only  the  coarsest  food,  in  most  cases 
only  rather  dry  bread,  and  occasionally  a 
vegetable  stew,  but  as  long  as  we  could  supply 
them  with  cigarettes,  almost  the  breath  of  life  to 
the  Serbian  soldier,  they  were  contented. 

When  I  had  been  in  Belgrade  two  days,  the  Red 


16 

Cross  unit  which  had  been  serving  in  the  hospital, 
was  withdrawn  and  shortly  after  sailed  for  Eng- 
land. This  left  Madame  Grouitch  with  two 
trained  nurses,  Dr.  Shuler,  a  young  English  sur- 
geon who  had  gone  to  the  Balkans  to  gain  experi- 
ence before  settling  down  to  practice,  two  Serbian 
medical  students,  and  a  number  of  ladies  and  young 
girls,  belonging  to  Belgrade  society,  but  with  little 
training  (as  we  understand  it),  to  care  for  one 
hundred  and  sixty-eight  men,  most  of  them  suffer- 
ing from  neglected  and  gangrenous  wounds.  Mad- 
ame Grouitch  was  herself  so  worn  out  with  her 
unremitting  efforts  in  the  hospital  that  she  nearly 
broke  down. 

However,  she  was  not  the  kind  to  give  in,  so  in 
a  little  while  she  began  to  arrange  the  duties 
among  her  small  group  of  workers.  But  try  as 
she  would,  her  insufficient  but  willing  staff  could 
not  quite  cover  even  the  absolutely  necessary 
work. 

I  listened  and  wanted  to  help,  but  as  I  had 
no  training  at  all,  had  never  even  been  with  sick 
people  and  had  practically  never  seen  blood,  I  did 


INTRODUCTION  TO  WAR  17 

not  feel  very  competent.  Still,  I  was  only  too 
willing  to  do  what  I  could,  and  offered  to  run 
errands,  or  "hand  things,"  or  obey  any  orders 
from  any  one.  Madame  Grouitch  looked  at  me 
critically. 

"Where  we  really  must  have  help  is  in  the  oper- 
ating room,"  was  her  tentative  suggestion.  "Some 
one  must  be  there  to  wait  on  the  surgeon." 

The  thought  made  me  feel  rather  queer,  but 
I  said,  "Let  me  try."  She  did. 

The  first  case  was  a  pretty  bad  one,  but  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  do  the  best  I  could,  and  I  got 
through  without  much  trouble. 

But  the  next  case  proved  too  much  for  me. 
We  had  a  man  whose  head  had  been  broken  by  a 
piece  of  shell  and  he  was,  in  consequence,  com- 
pletely paralyzed.  There  was  some  growth  on  his 
back,  just  by  the  shoulder,  which  had  to  be 
removed  and  I  had  to  hold  him  in  my  arms  to  keep 
him  in  the  proper  position  during  the  operation. 

We  had  no  anaesthetics.  There  was  no  money 
with  which  to  buy  them.  The  poor  fellow  was 


18  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

in  a  fearful  state  of  nerves  as  he  lay  in  my 
arms,  screaming,  but  unable  to  move  a  muscle. 

The  feeling  of  his  bare  body  on  my  bare  arms, 
his  screams,  his  breath,  the  odor  of  blood  and  the 
sound  of  the  knife  softly  passing  through  the 
flesh  were  at  last  too  much  for  me.  I  managed 
to  stand  it  until  the  operation  was  over  and  then 
I  went  into  the  open  air  and  was  deathly  sick. 
Five  minutes  later  I  apologized  to  Dr.  Shuler  and 
said  I  would  be  braver  next  time;  and  though  it 
was  a  struggle  sometimes,  I  was  able  to  go  on  from 
that  time  without  further  mishap. 

At  the  end  of  two  days  I  was  allowed  to  dress 
amputations.  I  would  take  off  the  dressings. 
Dr.  Shuler  would  look  over  from  his  patient  on 
the  table  and  say,  "Swab  that  with  number  two." 
I'd  do  it.  Then  I  would  rebandage  the  stump. 
The  soldier  would  murmur,  "Fala,  sestro," 
(thanks,  sister)  and  hobble  off  on  his  crude 
crutches.  Sometimes  the  tortured  nerves  of  the 
patient  would  be  too  much  for  him,  and  he  would 
lay  his  poor  head  on  my  arm  and  plead,  "Polako, 
sestro,"  (gently,  sister)  while  great  beads  of 


INTRODUCTION  TO  WAR  19 

sweat  would  stand  out  on  his  forehead.  But  usu- 
ally they  were  so  brave  that  it  makes  me  proud  to 
think  that  I  was  allowed  to  do  what  I  could  to 
help  them.  No  one  who  has  worked  with  the 
Serbian  soldiers  has  anything  but  the  warmest 
praise  for  them.  They  are  patient,  gentle,  proud 
and  brave. 

There  was  in  that  hospital  many  a  boy  of 
twenty  with  a  gangrened  wound  for  each  year  of 
his  life.  They  would  lie  on  their  stretchers  out- 
side the  door  of  the  operating  room,  awaiting 
their  turn,  with  their  great  eyes  clouded  with  pain 
and  misery.  They  would  go  upon  that  rude 
plank  operating  table  with  their  thin  hands 
clenched  to  help  them  bear  the  ordeal.  We  would 
put  a  lighted  cigarette  into  their  mouths  and  they 
would  undergo  the  awful  probing  and  draining  of 
their  sickening  wounds  without  one  murmur  or 
moan — though  I  sometimes  would  put  my  hand 
over  their  eyes  because  I  could  not  bear  the  look 
of  agony  in  them. 

The  courage  and  marvelous  endurance  of  the 
Serbian  soldier  is  a  memory  that  will  often,  I  be- 


20 

lieve,  uphold  me  and  many,  many  others  who 
have  worked  among  them,  when  things  seem  too 
hard  to  bear. 

Madame  Grouitch  was  wonderful  during  these 
days.  Not  over  strong  herself,  she  was  never  too 
tired  to  soothe  and  comfort  a  feverish  or  suffering 
man.  One  day,  just  as  she  had  declared  she 
could  not  hold  up  her  head  another  minute,  some 
one  came  in  from  the  street  and  asked  if  she  could 
manage  to  give  a  very  sick  man  a  bed  in  which 
to  die.  He  was  brought  in — a  piteous  sight, 
ragged,  filthy,  his  beard  and  mustache  matted 
together  over  his  mouth  and  his  dark  skin  gray 
with  a  deathly  pallor. 

"Then  there  is  no  hope  for  him?"  asked 
Madame  Grouitch. 

"He  cannot  have  eaten  or  drunk  for  days  and 
there  is  not  one  chance  in  a  hundred,"  was  the 
reply. 

"We  shall  see,"  she  said,  and  took  scissors 
r."d  ripped  away  the  ragged  garments,  the  matted 
hair  was  cut  from  his  face  and  with  warm  water 
she  bathed  the  wasted  body,  then  sat  down  beside 


INTRODUCTION  TO  WAR  21 

him  to  fight  with  death.  From  time  to  time  she 
forced  drops  of  beef  tea  or  brandy  through  the 
blue  lips  and  hour  after  hour  she  sat  waving  a  fan 
over  his  face  to  stir  the  sultry  air  and  drive  away 
the  swarming  flics.  Her  own  fatigue  forgotten, 
she  waited,  and  many  hours  later  had  the  joy  of 
knowing  that  the  man  would  live. 

On  returning  to  my  hotel  one  day,  after  finish- 
ing my  duties  at  the  hospital,  I  noticed  a  small 
group  of  people  standing  about  a  shop  window. 
I  stopped  to  see  what  was  exhibited,  and  found 
that  it  was  not  the  window  that  was  attracting 
attention  but  a  broad  shouldered  37oung  man  who 
stood  before  it. 

He  was  obviously  a  soldier.  But  when  I  got 
a  full  view  of  him  I  realized  afresh  that  war, 
indeed,  is  hell.  He  had  been  captured  by  the  Bul- 
garians during  a  fight  on  the  Eastern  front  and 
afterward  had  been  liberated  and  sent  back  to  his 
regiment  with  hands  bound.  His  ears,  nose,  lips 
and  eyelids  had  been  cut  off.  He  had  been  scalped 
in  such  a  manner  that  only  a  strip  of  hair,  running 


22  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

from  the  middle  of  his  head  to  the  nape  of  his 
neck,  in  parody  of  a  parting,  remained. 

Sick  and  trembling,  I  turned  into  the  door  of 
the  hotel  and  the  impression  I  had  received  made 
it  impossible  for  me  to  sleep  with  any  degree  of 
comfort  for  many  nights  to  come. 

In  talking  with  a  Serbian  officer  some  days  later 
I  happened  to  speak  of  this  case  and  found  that 
he  was  thoroughly  familiar  with  it.  Indeed  he 
showed  me  a  photograph  of  the  young  man,  a 
handsome  fellow,  taken  for  his  sweetheart  before 
he  left  for  the  front. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  fill  these  pages  with 
such  horrible  stories,  but  there  were  dozens  and 
dozens  of  such  cases  as  those  described  that  came 
under  my  personal  observation  during  my  work 
in  the  hospital.  Bulgaria  was  certainly  a  fitting 
Ally  for  the  Hun  to  select  in  this  World's  War. 

You  must  remember  that  up  to  this  time  I  had 
lived  a  calm  and  peaceful  life,  such  as  most  Amer- 
ican women  live.  Horrors,  bloodshed,  atrocities 
had  never  before  entered  my  life  or  my  mind.  I 
question  whether  I  could  even  have  read  of  them 


INTRODUCTION  TO  WAR  23 

in  the  papers,  and,  if  I  had  done  so,  I  should  have 
hesitated  to  believe  that  such  things  were  possible. 

But  here,  in  war  torn  Serbia,  ray  education  in 
the  grimness  of  war  began. 

On  my  return  to  England,  where  I  was  then  liv- 
ing, after  my  work  in  Belgrade  was  completed, 
I  felt  that  I  was  a  different  woman.  Above  all, 
there  had  come  over  me  a  feeling  of  the  highest 
regard  for  that  brave  little  nation,  Serbia,  and 
its  gallant  and  heroic  people. 


CHAPTER  in 

A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY  OF  OUB  GAME  LITTLE 
ALLY 

BELGRADE,  the  capital,  before  the  war  was  full 
of  curious  contrasts :  handsome,  modern  buildings 
and  the  rudely  cobbled  streets ;  peasants  in  gayly 
embroidered  clothing  and  ladies  in  Parisian 
frocks ;  smart  officers  on  beautiful  horses  and  farm 
cart  drawn  by  great  creamy  oxen. 

The  town  stands  high  above  the  junction  of  the 
Danube  and  Save  Rivers,  and  from  Scmlin,  the 
Austrian  frontier  town,  it  looks  like  a  hanging 
garden.  After  the  flat  plains  of  the  approach  to 
Hungary,  the  thick  trees  crowning  the  old  fortifi- 
cations are  most  grateful  to  the  eye,  and  the  gray 
walls  of  the  prison-like  fortress,  with  the  white 
towers  of  the  city,  make  an  unforgettable  picture. 

On  the  principal  streets  are  many  fine  shops, 
24 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY        25 

banks  and  business  houses.  The  Konak  or  Royal 
Palace  is  a  beautiful  cream-colored  building,  set 
among  trees  and  grassy  terraces,  while  in  the  side 
streets  are  handsome  residences,  side  by  side  with 
white  cottage-like  buildings,  rather  dark  and  ill- 
ventilated,  in  which  the  large  families  of  the  less 
progressive  people  live. 

The  sons  and  daughters  of  the  well-to-do  Serbs 
are  usually  given  the  advantage  of  a  year  or  two 
of  study  in  Vienna  or  Paris,  and  are  particularly 
adept  in  learning  foreign  languages.  The  well 
educated  Serb  speaks  German,  of  course,  since  the 
country  adjoins  Austria,  and  generally  Russian, 
which  the  Serbian  tongue  strongly  resembles.  To 
these  he  adds  French,  and  often  English.  Even 
the  peasant,  given  the  opportunity  to  educate 
himself,  will  frequently  become  a  lawyer,  doctor, 
scientist  or  writer,  and  it  is  little  exaggeration  to 
say  that  all  Serbs  are  poets. 

They  are  very  proud  and  independent,  and  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  they  live  under  a  monarchy, 
they  are  the  most  democratic  people  I  know. 
The  Constitution  of  Serbia  proclaims  that  "the 


26  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

King  is  to  reign  by  the  will  of  the  people."  In 
other  words,  if  he  displeases  the  people  they  may 
choose  another  in  his  stead.  His  eldest  son  does 
not  of  necessity  reign  after  him. 

By  the  Constitution  of  Serbia  every  man  was 
entitled  to  five  acres  of  land,  two  draught  oxen,  a 
certain  number  of  pigs,  fowls  and  some  household 
furnishings,  and  these  are  his  by  inalienable  right 
and  cannot  be  taken  from  him  even  for  debt.  On 
this  land  and  with  these  goods  he  must  raise 
everything  that  he  and  his  family  eat,  drink,  use 
or  wear. 

There  is  very  little  money  in  circulation  in 
the  country  districts,  and  when  the  family  needs 
a  cooking  pot  or  other  utensil  it  is  acquired  at  the 
weekly  market  in  the  town  by  the  barter  of  a 
fowl,  some  eggs,  or  a  flitch  of  home-cured  bacon. 
The  women  spin  and  weave  the  flax  and  wool,  and 
make  the  beautiful,  simple  clothing  worn  by  the 
family.  They  embroider  these  garments  with 
silk  and  worsted,  and  many  of  them  are  real 
works  of  art  and  are  handed  down  from  one  gen- 
eration to  another. 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY        27 

Serbia  is  now  entirely  an  agricultural  country, 
eighty  per  cent  of  the  population  living  on  and  by 
their  farms.  Prizes  are  given  to  the  farmers  by 
a  well  organized  agricultural  society  and  the  pay- 
ment of  taxes  is  usually  made  in  produce.  Every 
farmer  gives  annually  a  few  days'  labor  to  the 
State. 

The  farmers  have  all  the  sturdy  qualities  and 
virtues  which  come  from  close  contact  with 
Mother  Earth.  They  are  frugal,  intelligent  and 
industrious ;  all  have  poetry  in  their  very  souls. 
They  are  a  peaceable,  domestic  people,  devoted  to 
their  children  and  their  homes,  but  they  do  not 
hesitate  a  moment  to  fight  when  those  homes  are 
threatened. 

An  odd  custom  has  survived  from  the  long 
Turkish  occupation.  When  a  peasant  is  obliged 
to  introduce  his  wife  to  a  foreigner  he  does 
it  after  this  fashion:  "This,  may  your  honor 
forgive  me,  is  my  wife."  But  this  attitude  toward 
her  is  only  for  the  outside  world,  for  their  family 
life  is  full  of  affection. 

The  peasant  house  is  a  low,  white-walled,  red- 


28  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

tiled  structure  with  its  windows  and  doors  on  one 
side.  These  being  the  only  inlets  for  light  and 
air,  the  houses  are  usually  dark  and  stuffy,  but 
each  house  is  whitewashed  inside  and  out  fre- 
quently. 

The  Serbian  family  often  pools  its  resources 
and  forms  a  sort  of  community  dwelling, 
called  a  "Zadruga."  This  consists  of  a  large  cen- 
tral house  in  which  the  heads  of  the  family  and 
the  unmarried  members  live.  Surrounding  this 
are  smaller  cottages,  called  "Vayat,"  in  which  the 
married  sons  and  their  families  live.  The  ruling 
member,  or  "Stareshina,"  of  the  house  apportions 
the  work  each  day  and  settles  all  disputes.  Thus, 
if  there  were  few  very  wealthy  families  in  Serbia, 
before  the  invasion,  there  was  no  utter  want  and 
no  beggars. 

The  country  is  very  beautiful,  with  rolling  hills 
and  fertile  valleys,  and  in  no  place  in  the  world 
have  I  seen  such  a  profusion  of  wild  flowers; 
while  the  cloud-flecked  sky  which  is  characteristic 
of  Serbia,  the  fleeting  shadows  over  the  glowing 
meadows,  the  broad  plains  with  their  golden  crops 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY        29 

and  the  myriads  of  bending  fruit  trees,  make  up 
a  picture  that  can  never  be  forgotten. 

The  climate  resembles  that  of  New  England, 
even  to  the  "Indian  Summer,"  with  its  bright 
warm  days  and  keen  nipping  nights.  There  are 
frequent  heavy  rains  and  thunder-storms  during 
the  summer  months.  The  rough  Serbian  roads 
are  full  of  deep  holes  into  which,  as  almost  the 
only  attempt  at  repair,  large  boulders  are  thrown 
with  touching  confidence  that  the  next  storm  will 
settle  them  into  place. 

All  the  hauling  is  done  by  big  oxen,  or  by 
uncouth-looking  water  buffalo,  who  draw  the 
crude  carts  at  the  rate  of  about  a  mile  an  hour. 
While  it  is  a  pretty  sight  to  see  these  oxen  decked 
with  wild  flowers  by  their  peasant  owners,  yet  it 
isn't  so  pleasant  to  find  them  lying  by  the  road- 
side suffering  from  sunstroke,  to  which  they  are 
curiously  liable. 

Of  late  years  the  principal  industries  have  been 
the  canning  of  vegetables,  the  raising  of  pork,  and 
the  drying  of  prunes,  of  which  Serbia  has  put 
forth  a  great  proportion  of  the  world's  supply. 


30  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Austria,  desiring  to  swell  her  own  commerce  by 
the  control  of  the  Serbian  market,  has  been  able 
to  deny  this  country  an  outlet  to  the  sea.  This 
has  naturally  hampered  the  progress  of  industries 
and  Serbia  has,  therefore,  remained  poor — but 
not  humble. 

I  have  seen  much  of  misery  and  want  in  that 
sad  country  during  these  last  two  years,  but  never 
have  I  heard  a  Serb,  man,  woman  or  child,  beg. 
They  have  always  worked  hard  and  lived  poorly, 
but  they  were  utterly  content,  since  what  they  had 
was  their  own  and  their  feeling  of  proud  inde- 
pendence outweighed  hunger  and  cold  and  even 
death  itself.  The  peasant  will  bow  before  you 
and  perhaps  even  kiss  your  hand,  but  then  he  will 
stand  upright  and  talk  as  easily  and  freely  as  if 
to  his  own  brother. 

The  hills  of  Serbia  are  full  of  iron,  silver,  gold 
and  copper.  In  fact,  in  old  Roman  times  the 
world's  greatest  supply  of  silver  came  from  Ser- 
bia, and  her  copper  mines  are  perhaps  the  richest 
in  the  world.  But  jealous  neighbors  and  lack  of 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY        31 

seaports  have  kept  her  from  developing  these  rich 
resources. 

Today  Serbia  is  absolutely  devastated,  as  the 
Germans  and  Austrians  cut  down  every  fruit  tree 
when  they  entered  the  country.  It  will  take  years 
and  years  of  unremitting  toil  to  give  back  to  the 
world  the  supply  of  those  delicious  fruits  and 
vegetables  which  the  Serbian  people  formerly 
raised.  This  war  will  not  be  over  when  peace  is 
declared.  Years  of  reconstruction,  of  planting 
and  patient  upbuilding  of  ruined  farms  must  in- 
tervene before  Serbia  is  restored. 

The  Serb  prides  himself  on  his  simple  origin. 
King  Peter  says  he  is  "of  the  people,"  and  by  his 
nobility  during  these  years  of  woe  and  suffering 
he  has  proved  himself  a  brother  indeed. 

The  people  were  once  light-hearted  and  merry, 
loving  to  sing  and  dance  after  the  day's  work  was 
done,  and,  though  for  five  hundred  years  the  coun- 
try lay  under  the  heel  of  the  Turk  and  the  people 
were  denied  education,  the  splendid  spirit  of 
patriotism  has  been  kept  alive  by  song  and  story. 
Dearer  than  wife  or  mother  is  Serbia  to  the  Serb, 


32  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

though  he  is  a  good  husband  and  a  tender  son. 
To  him  his  beloved  country  comes  first. 

The  religion  of  Serbia  is  that  form  known  as 
Greek  Orthodox,  but  the  peasant  is  naive  in  his 
belief  that  "God  helps  those  who  help  themselves." 
He  is  fond  of  telling  the  story  of  the  man  who  fell 
into  the  river  and  called  upon  God  to  save  him. 
So  the  Creator  looked  from  Heaven  and  said, 
"Yes,  of  course,  I  will  save  you,  but  do  move  your 
arms  and  legs  a  little  and  try  to  swim  out." 

The  men  are  splendid,  handsome  fellows,  and 
even  among  the  old  men  of  eighty  and  ninety  are 
some  of  the  finest  specimens  I  ever  have  seen. 
The  women,  owing  no  doubt  to  the  lack  of  light 
and  ventilation  in  their  houses,  are  rather  sallow. 

The  typical  Serbian  has  dark  hair  and  gray 
eyes,  rather  high  cheekbones  and  strongly  marked 
features ;  he  has  a  tall  and  wiry  body  and  is  capa- 
ble of  withstanding  extraordinary  hardships.  Al- 
ways the  battlefield  of  Europe,  always  holding 
the  gate  between  East  and  West,  and  always  loyal 
to  her  ideals,  not  even  the  Turk  in  his  five  hundred 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY        33 

years  of  oppression  could  crush  the  religion  or 
taint  the  blood  of  Serbia. 

Serbia,  like  Switzerland,  is  entirely  cut  off  from 
the  sea,  bounded  as  it  is  on  the  north  by  Austria, 
on  the  east  by  Bulgaria,  on  the  south  by  Greece, 
and  on  the  west  by  Albania.  It  was  settled  in  the 
seventh  century  by  wandering  shepherd  tribes  of 
Serbs  and  Croats,  who  entered  the  western  half 
of  the  Balkan  Peninsula  and  there  made  their 
home.  At  the  end  of  the  eleventh  century  they 
had  already  formed  a  powerful  State  and  were 
engaged  in  acquiring  the  culture  of  Byzantium 
and  Rome. 

Their  greatest  king,  Stephen  Dushan,  was 
soldier,  law-giver,  builder  of  churches  and 
patron  of  art  and  literature.  In  1354,  Dushan 
gave  to  the  people  the  Zakonik,  or  Code  of  Law, 
which  ranks  high  among  medieval  codes.  Jugo- 
Slav  literature,  rich  and  glowing  with  tales  of 
heroism,  was  born  toward  the  end  of  the  ninth 
century,  and  the  earliest  fragments  preserved  date 
from  the  tenth  century. 

The  first  Serbian  novel,  "Vladimir   and  Kos- 


34  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

sara,"  was  published  in  the  thirteenth  century. 
Among  the  first  poetic  writers  were  Marko, 
Maroulitch  and  Hannibal  Luchitch  (fourteenth 
and  fifteenth  centuries). 

Serbia  has  always  had  the  gift  of  song  and 
sometimes  her  ballads  are  sung  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  the  gusle,  an  instrument  shaped  some- 
what like  a  guitar  but  having  only  one  string.  It 
is  rested  on  the  knee  and  played  with  a  high 
arched  bow,  and  it  is  surprising  what  wailing, 
minor  melodies  can  be  drawn  from  it. 

The  Serbian  language  is  very  beautiful  and 
lends  itself  admirabh*  to  splendid  songs  of  valor, 
glory  and  hope.  There  is  no  part-singing,  but  all 
sing  in  unison.  Sometimes  two  will  start  a  song 
story  in  duet  and  when  they  cease  two  more  will 
take  up  the  theme  and  go  on  from  that  point,  and 
so  on  until  the  story  is  done. 

Owing  to  the  depression  caused  by  the  con- 
tinual wars  for  several  years  I  had  not  heard 
the  Serbians  sing  until  in  the  autumn  of  1916  be- 
fore the  recapture  of  Monastir  by  Allied  armies — 
I  found  myself  in  a  camp  just  behind  the  Serbian 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY        35 

lines.  It  was  a  glorious  moonlight  night  and  the 
soldiers  were  filled  with  joy  that  they  were  again 
in  their  beloved  land,  so,  after  the  frugal  supper, 
a  group  of  young  men  began  to  sing  the  songs  of 
their  country.  The  guns  were  booming  near  at 
hand  and  we  could  hear  the  rattling  crackle  of 
the  machine  guns,  but  through  it  all  came  the 
triumphant  refrain  of  "Givela  Serbia." 

In  earlier  days,  when,  for  Serbians,  education 
was  difficult  and  culture  rare,  we  find  the  burning 
names  of  Czar  Lazar  and  his  Empress,  Militza, 
educators  and  protectors  of  their  people ; 
Stephen  Dushan,  patriot  and  law-giver;  Marko 
Kralyvitch,  soldier  and  champion  of  the  weak  and 
lowly.  Then  after  a  long,  dark  time,  during 
which  the  people  were  so  oppressed  that  few 
names  emerge  from  the  murk,  we  see  the  Serbian 
brilliancy  still  undimmed,  shining  forth  in  the 
name  of  Vuk  Stephanovitch  Karagich. 

Still  nearer  our  time  the  names  best  known  to 
us  here  in  America  are  those  of  Father  Nicholas 
Velimirovitch,  the  monk;  the  great  portrait 
painter,  Paul  Yovanovitch ;  sculptor  of  historic 


36  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

figures,  George  Yovanovitch,  and  most  marvelous 
sculptor,  second  to  none  in  his  genius,  Mestro- 
vitch.  Also  there  are  Rista  Voucanovitch,  native 
of  Hertzegovina,  and  Murat  from  Dalmatia,  but 
both  Serbs  and,  before  the  present  war,  exhibitors 
in  Belgrade. 

We  must  not  forget  Stoyan  Novacovitch,  who 
was  leader  of  the  Conservative  party,  Prime  Min- 
ister and  Diplomat,  nor  Dr.  Voya  Velikovitch, 
prominent  in  the  Liberal  party  and  a  well-known 
member  of  Parliament.  In  medicine  there  are 
Subotich,  Wilts  chetitch,  Roman  Sondermayer. 
Among  the  later  poets  the  names  of  Rakitch,  the 
writer  of  epic  verse,  and  Jean  Douchitch,  called 
the  "Byron  of  Serbia,"  stand  forth  conspicuously. 

America  owes  a  debt  to  Serbia  for  the  genius 
of  that  famous  scientist,  Michael  Idvorski  Pupin, 
American  citizen  but  of  Serbian  blood  and  devoted 
Serbophil,  who  holds  a  chair  in  Columbia  Uni- 
versity and  through  whose  efforts  many  influential 
Americans  have  been  aroused  to  a  warm  interest 
in  Serbia. 

Less    well-known    in     this     country,    perhaps, 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY        37 

are  the  names  of  Prime  Minister  Pashitch, 
the  splendid  statesman ;  George  Simitch,  for  many 
years  a  leading  diplomat ;  Chedomille  Myatovitch 
and  Dr.  Vladan  Georgevitch,  statesmen  and 
writers ;  as  well  as  Milenko  Vesnitch,  who  was  the 
head  of  the  Serbian  War  Mission  that  visited  this 
country  a  short  time  ago,  and  Professor  Sima 
Losanitch,  who  accompanied  him,  together  with 
General  Rashitch,  all  men  who  shed  honor  on  the 
name  of  their  country.  Kernel  Stankovitch, 
musician,  and  Marianovitch  an  author,  famous  at 
least  in  his  native  land,  and  Illarion  Ruvarats,  the 
historian.  All  of  these  later  men  of  genius  look 
back  to  their  forerunner,  St.  Sava,  who  in  the 
fourteenth  century  devoted  his  life  to  spreading 
education  and  a  love  of  art  among  his  countrymen. 
The  greatest  hero  in  Serbian  history,  Marko 
Kralyvitch,  called  "Marko,  the  King's  Son,"  was 
said  to  be  the  offspring  of  a  "Dragon"  and  a 
Vila,  or  mountain  fairy.  "Dragon"  in  Serbian 
poetry  is  used  to  designate  a  fearless  soldier  and 
constantly  recurs  in  tales  of  warriors  and  great 
men. 


38  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

There  have  been  many  legends  written  of 
Marko,  who  is  popularly  supposed  never  to  have 
died  but  to  sleep  in  a  cave  near  the  Castle  of 
Prilip.  He  is  said  to  awaken  at  intervals  and 
come  forth  to  see  if  his  sword,  which  he  had  thrust 
to  its  hilt  in  the  rock,  has  fallen  out.  When  this 
shall  occur  he  will  return  to  restore  the  empire 
which  was  destroyed  at  Kossovo  in  1389. 

The  Serbian  ideals  are  high  and  spiritual.  For 
example,  when  there  was  a  dispute  between  Marko's 
father  and  his  uncle  and  "Probatim,"  (adopted 
brother)  as  to  which  should  inherit  the  throne  and 
Marko  was  called  upon  to  decide  the  question, 
Jevrossima,  his  mother,  counseled  him.  The 
mother's  wisdom  has  been  preserved  in  a  national 
folk  poem: 

"Greatly  as  Marko  himself  loved  justice 

Greatly  his  mother  thereto  advise  him; 
'Marko,  thou  only  son  of  thy  mother 

Let  not  my  milk  in  thee  be  accursed, 
Do  not  utter  an  unjust  judgment, 

Speak  not  in  favor  of  father  of  kinsman 
But  speak  for  the  justice  of  the  God  of  Truth, 

It  were  better  to  lose  thy  life 
Than  to  lose  thy  soul  by  sinning;.' ' 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY        39 

The  world  heard  an  echo  of  these  words  three 
years  ago  when,  in  reply  to  the  proposals  of 
Austria  that  Serbia  should  make  a  separate  peace, 
deserting  her  allies,  and  so  to  save  her  population 
from  terrible  suffering,  Mr.  Pashitch,  the  great 
Serbian  Prime  Minister,  said :  "It  is  better  to  die 
in  beauty  than  to  live  in  shame." 

Many  of  the  Serbian  proverbs  are  closely  akin 
to  our  own  and  all  show  a  deep  appreciation  of 
honesty  and  often  a  keen  sense  of  humor.  A  few 
of  the  best  known  are  as  follows : 

It  is  better  to  know  how  to  behave  than  to  Iiavs 
gold. 

Woe  to  the  legs  under  a  foolish  head. 

Keep  white  money  for  black  days. 

It  is  easier  to  earn  than  to  keep. 

Without  health  is  no  wealth. 

A  cheerful  heart  spins  the  flax. 

A  kind  word  opens  the  iron  door. 

An  earnest  work  is  never  lost. 

Who  does  good  will  receive  better. 

Debt  is  a  bad  companion. 

What  is  taken  unjustly  or  by  force  is  accursedt 

As  the  master  is  so  are  the  servants. 

Mend  the  hole  while  it  is  small. 

Who  judges  hastily  will  repent  quickly. 


40  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

He  who  works  has  much;  he  who  saves  has  more. 

If  you  would  know  a  man  place  him  in  authority. 

It  is  better  to  suffer  injustice  than  to  commit  it. 

Boast  to  a  stranger;  complain  only  to  a  friend. 

The  lie  has  short  legs. 

F~e  who  mixes  with  refuse  will  be  devoured  by 
swiue. 

God  sometimes  shuts  one  door  to  open  a  hundred 
otl  ers. 

God  does  not  settle  his  accounts  with  men  every 
Saturday  but  in  his  own  good  time. 

The  devil  never  sleeps. 

More  men  die  of  eating  and  drinking  than  of  hunger 
and  thirst. 

The  Home  does  not  stand  upon  the  soil  but  on  the 
wife. 

Better  a  body  in  rags  and  a  soul  in  silk  than  a  soul 
in  rags  and  a  body  in  silk. 

Do  not  ask  how  a  man  crosses  himself  but  whose 
the  blood  that  warms  his  heart  and  whose  the  milk 
that  nourished  him. 

Victory  is  not  won  by  shining  arms  but  by  brave 
hearts. 

The  heroic  sentiments  of  men  and  women  alike 
inflame  the  imagination  and  give  an  insight  into 
the  character  of  the  people  as  nothing  else  can 
do.  General  Stephanovitch  said  to  his  soldiers 
when,  on  an  occasion,  they  were  depressed  and 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY        41 

seemed  spiritless,  "Brothers,  it  is  to  your  valor 
and  achievements  that  I  owe  my  honors.  Unless 
you  are  again  worthy  of  your  past,  I  will  tear 
these  epaulettes  from  my  shoulders  and  fling  them 
at  your  feet." 

A  Dalmatian  Slav  said  to  R.  W.  Seton  Watson, 
"We  have  regained  our  belief  in  the  future  of  our 
race." 

A  foreign  doctor  told  him,  in  one  of  the  hos- 
pitals, "If  you  hear  a  man  complaining  be  cer- 
tain that  man  is  not  a  Serb." 

A  Serbian  lady  said  to  one  who  would  condole 
with  her,  "I  gave  my  son  to  Serbia  and  now  my 
prayers  dwell  with  me  in  his  stead." 

When  Serbian  soldiers  were  commended  on  some 
splendid  feat  in  this  war,  they  remarked  simply, 
"With  Marko  Kralyvitch  to  help  us  it  was  easy 
enough."  They  believed  that  they  had  seen  that 
hero  of  old  days  riding  on  his  gray  charger  before 
them. 

The  Maiden  of  Kossovo  weeping  over  her  dead 
on  the  fatal  Field  of  Blackbirds  cried,  "Ah  me !  I 
that  am  so  wretched  that  were  I  to  touch  the 


42  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

green  oak  tree  my  grief  would  straightway  wither 
all  its  freshness." 

Said  the  victims  of  a  former  invasion,  "Grass 
never  grows  where  the  hoofs  of  Turkish  horses 
pass." 

Volko  the  Outlaw  was  a  true  Socialist  when  he 
declared,  "If  I  possess  anything  any  man  may 
share  it  with  me;  but  if  I  have  nothing  then  woe 
to  the  man  who  will  not  share  with  me  what  he 
has." 

When  the  Austrian  Landsturm,  elderly  men, 
were  called  to  the  colors,  some  waggish  Slav  hung 
this  notice  on  a  tomb  in  the  cemetery  at  Spalato. 
"Arise  ye  dead,  ye,  too,  must  fight  for  Francis 
Joseph." 

A  Serbian  divine,  preaching  in  Serbia's  darkest 
hour,  uttered  these  solemn  wrords,  "The  land  of 
Serbia  is  an  altar  and  your  brother's  blood  is  the 
sacrifice."     And  of  the  Serbs  who  had  fallen  in 
the  defense  of  their  country  a  native  poet  wrote: 
"From  their  blood  shall  flowers  spring 
For  some  far  off  generation." 

The  spirit  of  the  people  is  shown  by  the  stories 


General    Michael    Rashitch,    Leader    of    Serbian    Army    in 
Retreat   over   Albanian    Mountains 


*ff*~?Y 
'  *)    -J~* 


/;// 


A. GLANCE  AT  THE  COUNTRY       43 

of  how  the  old  parents  advised  their  children.  A 
mother  to  whom  an  only  son  had  returned  asked 
him  why  he  was  there.  "Why,  I  am  on  leave," 
replied  the  young  man. 

"But  suppose  there  should  be  fighting  while 
you  are  away,"  said  the  mother.  "You  must  go 
back  at  once  to  your  regiment  where  your  duty 
lies." 

A  Serbian  regiment  holding  a  position  sent 
several  times  to  ask  for  reinforcements  but  none 
came  and  the  regiment  lost  heavily.  Finally  a 
corporal  was  sent  back  to  headquarters  and  his 
message  ran,  "There  are  seven  of  us  left,  sir.  Shall 
we  go  on  holding  the  position?" 

An  old  man  found  in  an  attitude  of  utter 
despair  was  asked  his  trouble.  "You  would  not 
understand,"  he  said.  "But  I  had  three  sons.  One 
was  killed  in  the  Turkish  war;  one  I  lost  in  the 
Balkan  war  and  my  last  son  I  buried  today." 

"But  they  fell  upon  the  field  of  honor  which 
should  be  a  consolation  to  you,"  was  the  answer. 

"I  knew  you  would  not  understand,"  growled 
the  old  man.  "That  is  not  what  troubles  me :  but 


44  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

they  have  left  five  little  boys  behind  and  it  will 
be  so  long  before  they  are  old  enough  to  fight  for 
Serbia !" 

There  are  endless  stories  showing  the  devotion 
of  the  people  and  many  pathetic  ones  showing  how 
even  the  women  resign  themselves  to  all  loss  if  it 
is  for  their  country's  sake.  In  Macedonia  I  saw 
a  woman,  accompanied  by  two  little  children,  who 
I  had  seen,  surrounded  by  her  large  family,  gath- 
ering the  crops  in  the  fields  near  Vrgntze.  In  a 
moment  of  forgetfulness,  I  asked,  "Where  are  the 
others?"  Inclining  her  head  toward  the  Albanian 
mountains,  she  said: 

"They  are  over  there — with  God." 

"Serbia  still  lives  in  the  hearts  of  her  people." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  PLOT 

AUSTRIA'S  attack  upon  Serbia  in  1914  was  most 
cleverly  engineered,  since  the  excuse  was  the  mur- 
der of  the  Austrian  Crown  Prince  Ferdinand  by 
a  Serb.  But  behind  this  we  see  the  hand  of  Ger- 
many, who  was  plotting  to  gain  control  of  the 
route  to  Egypt  and  India.  Her  idea  of 
world  domination  began  with  the  hoped-for 
Berlin-to-Bagdad  Railway,  and  she  went  about 
entangling  the  other  Central  European  Powers 
that  they  might  work  for  her  ends  and  pull  her 
chestnuts  out  of  the  fire. 

Austria  wished  only  to  bully  little  Serbia  and 
did  not  desire  to  enter  upon  a  World  War,  iw 
which  she  might  have  clearly  seen  that  Germany 
would  take  everything  worth  having.  She  wanted 
to  continue  her  policy  of  repression  and  extortion 
against  the  Slavs  and  to  succeed  perhaps  in  annex- 

45 


46  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

ing  more  Serbian  provinces,  as  during  the  years 
since  Serbia  had  thrown  off  the  Turkish  yoke,  she 
had  already  taken  the  richest  of  Serbia's  northern 
territory  by  force  and  by  crafty  statesmanship. 
Her  bitterness  against  Serbia  perhaps  was  aug- 
mented by  a  realization  of  her  own  injustice  and 
by  the  proud  courage  and  resistance  of  the  Serbian 
people. 

Austria  knew  that  Serbia  would  never  yield 
to  her  dominance,  so  she  plotted  even  in  the  blood 
of  her  own  Royal  House.  The  youth  who  mur- 
dered the  Archduke  Ferdinand  was  a  Serb,  but  he 
was  a  Serb  of  Austria — one  of  those  unhappy 
expatriates  who  had  been  brought  up  to  hold 
allegiance  to  the  enemy  of  his  own  country  and  in 
whose  brain  whirled  confused  and  perverted  ideals 
of  loyalty  and  honor. 

So  by  way  of  making  all  the  world  see  that  she 
was  not  to  be  trifled  with  and  hoping  that  the 
world  would  believe  that  she  was  injured  and  justi- 
fied, Austria  prepared  to  invade  Serbia.  When  she 
was  thrown  out  of  the  country  the  first  time  her 
surprise  was  great.  When  a  second  time  she 


THE  PLOT  47 

found  that  the  small  but  gallant  nation,  which 
she  had  expected  to  find  an  easy  victim,  was  again 
too  much  for  her,  her  fury  knew  no  bounds.  The 
spectacle  of  her  army  fleeing  before  a  foe  much 
less  than  half  its  size — fleeing  in  panic,  throwing 
its  equipment  away  and  screaming  for  mercy  when 
overtaken,  was  not  an  edifying  sight. 

But  Austria  tried  hard  to  "save  her  face"  and 
again  deceive  a  world  which  was  now  beginning  to 
understand  her  game.  Drawing  her  mantle  of 
dignity  about  her  as  best  she  might,  she  announced 
that  "our  punitive  expedition  against  Serbia  is 
now  concluded,"  and  a  derisive  world  rocked  with 
laughter. 

It  Avas  Germany  who,  acting  behind  the  scenes 
in  1914,  pushed  Austria  again  and  again  into  the 
fray,  and  who,  in  1915,  when  Serbia  was  nearly 
exhausted,  egged  on  treacherous  Bulgaria  to 
strike  for  revenge  against  Serbia  and  to  defy  her 
parent  Russia.  It  was  Germany  who  bribed  and 
coerced  Turkey  into  joining  the  attack  and  it  is 
German  guile  that  has  Austria,  Bulgaria  and 
Turkey  fighting  for  their  very  lives  today. 


48  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Germany's  dream  is  to  rule  the  world,  and  these 
dishonored  accomplices  may  be  very  sure  she 
does  not  intend  that  they  should  share  her  throne. 
They  are  to  fight  for  her,  smooth  her  way  and  be 
her  humble  vassals; — her  slave-drivers,  but  not 
the  Princes  of  her  House.  A  poor  reward  for 
treachery,  outrage,  child-murder,  and  all  the  hor- 
rors of  blood  and  infamy  in  which  these  deluded 
countries  have  sunk  themselves !  A  mean  wage 
this,  for  which  they  have  bartered  their  national 
souls ! 

What  Germany  has  done  on  the  west  to  Belgium 
— the  infamy  of  her  invasion,  the  stealing  of 
maidenhood  for  shameful  purposes  of  alien  mater- 
nity, the  looting,  burning  and  enslaving — her 
partners  have  done  in  little  Serbia  on  the  East. 
And  even  more,  for  Germany  has  committed  her 
crimes  coldly  and  under  the  cloak  of  "military 
necessity,"  while  Austria  and  Bulgaria,  filled  with 
hatred  of  the  people  whom  the  one  had  robbed 
and  the  other  betrayed, — these  two,  I  say,  have 
run  like  ravening  wolves  through  the  fertile  valleys 


THE  PLOT  49 

and  over  the  blue  hills  of  heroic  Serbia,  and  in 
their  wake  lies  utter  desolation. 

When  the  accounting  comes  of  murdered  babes, 
outraged  and  mutilated  women,  young  girls  sold 
into  shame  in  Turkish  cities,  massacred  old  men 
and  crucified  children,  cities  razed  and  riches 
stolen,  orchards  destroyed  and  fair  lands  devas- 
tated— when  this  accounting  comes,  God  in  His 
Heaven  shall  judge  these  criminals  and  His  thun- 
der-tones shall  pronounce  their  doom. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  DEBACLE 

WHEN  Austria  decided,  late  in  1915,  that  the 
time  was  ripe  for  her  final  attempt  to  crush  Ser- 
bia, she  massed  her  troops  along  the  Danube  and 
the  Save  Rivers,  bringing  up  her  heavy  artillery 
and  providing  for  the  attack  enormous  stores  of 
shells  and  munitions.  Knowing  how  gallant  and 
determined  was  their  opponent,  they  made  sure 
of  having  sufficient  force  with  which  finally  to 
overwhelm  her. 

But  they  had  no  easy  task.  All  the 
world  now  knows  how  Serbia  met  this  attack, 
how  bitterly  she  contested  every  rod  of  ground 
and  how  only  by  the  terrific  out-numbering  of  her 
devoted  men  and  the  immensely  superior  strength 
of  her  enemy's  ordnance  was  she  at  last  subdued — 
not  conquered,  for  Serbia's  Army  still  is  fighting. 

50 


THE  DEBACLE  51 

In  October,  Austria  had  prepared  to  cross  the 
river  at  Belgrade  by  an  irresistibly  heavy  bom- 
bardment, during  which  they  fired  fifty  thousand 
shells  into  the  town,  their  avowed  object  being 
to  kill  as  many  people  as  possible  and  thus  create 
a  reign  of  terror. 

They  also  had  laid  a  curtain  of  shell-fire  on 
the  roads  leading  from  the  town,  and  hundreds  of 
poor  fugitives  were  killed.  Men  and  women,  little 
children,  wounded  soldiers  who  were  taken  from 
hospital  beds ;  the  gently-nurtured  wives  and 
daughters  of  diplomats,  bankers  and  college  pro- 
fessors ;  shopkeepers,  Austrian  prisoners,  servants 
and  all  the  varied  population  of  a  great  city  fell 
victims  to  this  merciless  fire  and  lay  in  heaps  upon 
that  Road  of  Death. 

The  Serbian  troops  had  not  replied  to  this  fire, 
hoping  that  by  refraining  the  civil  population 
might  be  spared,  and  later  on,  after  most  strenu- 
ously resisting  the  enemy's  advance,  had.  with- 
drawn from  the  town.  But  nothing  availed  to 
restrain  the  implacable  enemy,  and  so  he  looted, 
burned  and  killed  as  his  nature  prompted  him. 


52  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Gallows  were  set  up  in  the  public  places  upon  his 
entrance  into  the  town  and  wholesale  executions 
followed. 

By  the  intervention  of  Americans,  who  had 
been  doing  hospital  work  in  the  city,  these 
gallows  were  later  removed  to  less  conspicuous 
spots.  The  Americans  protested  to  the  Austrian 
military  authorities  and  were  able  for  a  time  to 
relieve  the  appalled  and  suffering  people  from  the 
awful  sight  of  their  nearest  and  dearest  hanging 
shamefully  before  their  very  windows. 

In  the  attack  at  the  frontier  and  on  the  town 
poison  gas  was  used.  And  this  new  and  diabolical 
weapon — new  at  least  to  the  Serbians — was  more 
fatal  than  all  the  other  methods  of  warfare  com- 
bined. 

The  open  avowals  of  Austria,  Germany  and 
Bulgaria  that  they  intend  to  exterminate  the 
natives  is  one  of  the  tragic  phases  of  the  situation 
in  the  Balkans.  The  wholesale  hanging  of  prom- 
inent citizens,  the  turning  of  machine  guns  on 
innocent  inhabitants,  the  exportation  of  thous- 
ands of  young  girls  to  Turkey,  where  they  are 


THE  DEBACLE  53 

sold  into  the  harems,  the  young  boys  taken  into 
enemy  countries  to  be  brought  up  in  military 
schools,  the  removal  of  the  scanty  crops  and  the 
awful  treatment  of  Serbian  prisoners,  are  some  of 
the  terrible  methods  by  which  this  extermination 
is  being  accomplished. 

Yet  a  great  shriek  had  gone  up  in  Austria 
during  the  previous  evacuation  of  Serbia  by  the 
Serbian  army  over  the  rumor  that  the  Austrian 
prisoners  were  dying  in  thousands  as  they  were 
driven  through  the  mountains  by  the  Serbian 
troops.  Undoubtedly  many  did  die,  as  did  also 
thousands  of  Serbian  soldiers ;  but  so  many,  many 
thousands  were  freed  afterwards,  or  interned  in 
Italy,  that  it  is  probable  the  mortality  was  far 
less  than  might  seem  likely  in  the  circumstances. 

Also,  and  this  is  admitted  by  both  Berlin  and 
Vienna,  after  the  typhus  epidemic  the  Serbs  of- 
fered to  exchange  all  their  prisoners  but  received 
no  reply  to  their  message.  Therefore,  the  Aus- 
trians  have  no  cause  for  complaint,  nor  can  we 
believe  that  their  protests  were  seriously  made,  as 
a  very  large  proportion  of  these  men  were  their 


54  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

own  Slav  subjects  whom,  tliey  themselves  sacri- 
ficed, on  occasion,  lightly  and  remorselessly. 

In  the  final  successful  invasion  the  Austrian 
troops  were  in  every  way  inferior  to  the  Germans 
who  stiffened  Austrian  ranks,  but  the  Serbs  were 
outnumbered  at  least  four  to  one,  while  each 
enemy  division  had  double  the  number  of  guns 
that  the  Serbs  possessed.  The  asphyxiating  gases 
used  by  the  enemy  were  of  great  advantage,  but 
in  spite  of  all  this  he  had  to  fight  for  every  foot 
of  ground. 

Even  the  Austrian  and  German  newspapers  paid 
tribute  to  the  desperate  courage  of  the  Serbian 
troops.  The  loss  of  Serbian  officers  alone — great 
numbers  of  whom  were  killed  in  holding  positions 
which  while  hopeless  yet  would  give  the  Serbian 
Army  time  to  get  further  away  and  perhaps  to 
consolidate  some  more  valuable  strategic  points — 
and  the  heroism  of  the  Serbians,  men  and  officers 
alike,  form  an  example  for  the  world  to  wonder 
at  and  to  follow  if  they  can.  During  this  terrible 
fighting  the  Serbs  actually  took  over  a  thousand 


THE  DEBACLE  55 

prisoners  including  many  officers.  Then  the  Bul- 
garians came  in. 

They  attacked  Serbia  on  October  llth,  1915, 
though  their  declaration  of  war  was  not  handed 
to  the  Serbian  Government  until  late  in  the  day 
on  October  12th. 

Germany  had  gained  a  worthy  ally ! 

This  new  blow  meant  that  Serbia  now  had  to 
defend  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles  on  the 
Save  and  Danube,  one  hundred  miles  on  the  Bos- 
nian front  and  two  hundred  and  eighty  miles  on 
the  Bulgarian  frontier.  The  enormous  task  did 
not  dismay  the  Serbians,  however,  for  they  con- 
tinued to  fight  heroically  though  they  well  knew 
that  this  time  their  enemies  meant  to  finish  the 
job  of  annihilation.  Here  indeed  was  a  gallant 
Nation  at  Bay. 

Serbia's  only  hope  lay  in  the  prompt  arrival  of 
Entente  aid,  which  had  been  promised  and  was 
daily  expected  but  which  did  not  come.  So  at 
last,  when  nearly  surrounded  and  threatened  with 
total  extinction  at  the  hands  of  its  merciless  ene- 


56  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

mies,  the  gallant  army  withdrew  to  the  trackless 
wilds  of  the  Albanian  mountains. 

All  the  stores  and  munitions,  the  guns  and 
motors,  in  fact  everything  that  could  not  be  car- 
ried on  pack  animals,  had  to  be  destroyed,  while 
the  remnants  of  that  gallant  army  stood  by  filled 
with  bitter  grief  and  despair.  DesDairing  they 
vanished  from  their  beloved  land,  only  love  for 
which  kept  them  from  self-destruction  They 
had  too  little  hope  in  those  black  days,  but  it  was 
their  duty  to  Serbia  to  do  what  they  could  to 
survive  so  that,  perchance,  if  the  Entente  did  not 
again  fail  them  they  might  by  some  miracle  return 
to  fight  once  more  to  restore  to  freedom  the  Serbia 
who  must  now  lie  for  a  time  groaning  under  the 
cruel  yoke  of  a  ruthless  oppressor. 


CHAPTER  VI 

HELLS  ON  EARTH 

WHEN  the  French  and  English  retreated  to  the 
Marne,  the  resistless  waves  of  German  troops 
rolled  after  them  and  engulfed  thousands  of  gal- 
lant hearts  in  their  overwhelming  flood.  Mars 
rode  upon  the  storm  of  horror  and  drank  his  fill 
of  pain  and  blood. 

When  the  Serbian  Army  retreated  before  the 
foe,  four  times  its  own  strength,  it  went  backward 
facing  the  enemy  and  fighting  every  step  of  the 
way.  When  the  great  arsenal  of  Kraguevatz  fell, 
in  November,  1915,  the  friends  of  Serbia  wrung 
their  hands  and  prayed  that  aid  might  reach  her 
before  it  was  too  late. 

The  King,  in  the  midst  of  his  soldiers,  said  to 
them:  "My  children,  you  have  taken  an  oath  to 
me  your  King.  From  this  I  release  you.  From 
your  oath  to  your  country,  I  cannot  release  you, 

57 


58  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

but  if  you  win,  or  if  you  lose,  I  and  my  sons  stay 
with  you  here." 

Old  and  feeble,  suffering  with  neuritis  and 
other  infirmities,  riding  on  a  jolting  ox-cart 
over  the  atrocious  roads  and  with  despair 
in  his  heart  but  still  true  to  his  ideals  and  the 
high  courage  of  his  race,  his  was  a  fitting  spirit 
to  guide  such  an  army  as  the  Serbians  had  proved 
theirs  to  be.  And  the  soldiers,  tired,  hungry, 
worn  and  yet  not  overcome  answered  him  with  a 
shout  of  "Givela,  Serbia."  No  shirking  here. 
These  were  men  who  would  be  faithful  unto  death. 

The  Crown  Prince  Alexander,  stricken  and 
forced  to  undergo  an  operation  at  Skutari,  would 
not  seek  safety  until  all  arrangements  had  been 
made  to  carry  the  last  poor  refugee  away  to 
strange  islands  and  foreign  lands  where  he  might 
await  in  safety  the  coming  of  a  brighter  day. 

When  the  civil  population  of  Serbia  went  forth 
from  their  homes,  fleeing  from  those  remembered 
horrors  of  invasion,  they  took  with  them  only 
what  they  could  carry  on  their  backs,  the  clothing 
they  wore  and  the  bread  which  was  to  sustain 


HELLS  ON  EARTH  59 

them  for  a  little — such  a  little  time.  Some  ox- 
carts there  were,  to  be  sure,  but  these  moved 
slowly  and  had  to  be  abandoned  for  lack  of  roads 
when  the  mountains  were  reached.  Here  there 
were  only  rough  tracks  made  by  goats  or  mules 
and  even  these  were  soon  lost  under  the  pitiless 
snow.  The  animals  were  first  turned  loose  and 
later,  as  the  distress  and  hunger  of  the  people 
grew  more  acute,  they  were  struck  down  and  their 
flesh  eaten  by  the  starving  wanderers.  Famished 
dogs  went  wild  and  made  common  cause  with  the 
wolves  and  bears  which  roamed  the  mountain 
slopes.  Then  woe  to  any  poor  soul  who  might 
become  separated  from  his  group. 

The  Government  formed  all  boys  between  the 
ages  of  seven  and  seventeen  into  companies  so 
that  youth  might  not  be  hampered  by  age  in  the 
flight.  Over  thirty  thousand  of  these  lads  entered 
the  snowy  passes  and  what  they  braved,  suffered 
and  endured  beggars  imagination.  Only  six 
thousand  survive  today. 

Had  they  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy 
various  fates  might  have  overtaken  them.  Any  boy 


60  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

over  twelve  years  of  age  was  liable  to  be  called 
a  "soldier"  and  interned,  then  starved  as  all  Ser- 
bian prisoners  are  starving  today.  Or  he  might 
be  termed  a  spy  and  shot  or  infamously  hanged 
as  so  many  thousand  Serbians  have  been  within 
these  past  two  years.  Or,  if  still  young  enough 
to  forget,  he  might  be  taken  into  strange  lands 
and  there  trained  in  arms,  eventually  to  fight 
against  his  own  country. 

So  they  went  forth  on  their  pilgrimage  of  mar- 
tyrdom. Their  doom  has  moved  a  warring  world 
to  futile  tears. 

Those  awful  roads  in  November  were  filled  with 
a  procession  of  women,  children,  old  men  and 
maimed  soldiers  striving  to  get  away  from  the 
sound  of  guns — while  behind  them  fought  the 
little  groups  of  devoted  men,  fought  till  their 
weapons  fell  from  their  hands,  fought  still  when, 
wounded,  they  sank  upon  the  blood-soaked  soil  of 
Beloved  Serbia,  fought  to  give  time  for  those  poor 
refugees  to  get  a  little  farther  away  that  per- 
chance they  might  somewhere  find  safety. 

Away    in   the   icy    roads   leading    to    Albania., 


.£« 
K 


HELLS  ON  EARTH  61 

the  poor  ones  struggled  on.  Mothers  with  their 
little  ones  around  them;  blinded  soldiers  led  by 
the  gentle  hands  of  young  girls,  and  carrying  in 
their  arms  sick  or  half -frozen  children;  old  men, 
tottering,  stumbling,  falling  at  last  to  rise  no 
more ;  strong  and  handsome  women,  haggard 
now  with  bitter  fear,  their  danger  greater  than 
any  other. 

A  child  would  moan  in  its  mother's  arms,  and 
its  little  life  would  flicker  out.  The  mother, 
kneeling  beside  the  tiny  form,  would  take  off  her 
great  homespun  apron  that  she  might  leave  the 
loved  body  decently  covered.  But  the  other  suf- 
fering children,  crying  at  her  side,  needed  the 
meagre  warmth  of  the  ragged  garment,  so  the 
heartbroken  mother  with  a  piteous  prayer  must 
gather  her  little  brood  about  her  and,  leaving  her 
baby  uncovered,  go  on  again. 

One  by  one  the  children  would  fall  by  the  road- 
side, prey  to  every  cruel  chance  of  misery,  until 
at  last  the  poor  mother,  more  able  to  stand  hard- 
ship than  the  little  ones,  would  be  left  alone. 
Death  would  have  been  very  sweet  to  her — to  the 


62  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

thousands  like  her  who  made  that  awful  journey, 
— but  she  was  of  mettle  too  stern  to  accept  this 
compromise  with  Fate.  She  knew  just  three  shin- 
ing words,  Love,  Home,  Duty.  It  was  her  duty  to 
go  on  and  keep  life  in  her  starved  and  freezing 
body  as  long  as  she  could  so  that  if,  by  some 
unimagined  chance  she  might  come  back  again; 
come  Home  and  raise  up  other  children  to  live  in 
the  Beautiful  Serbia  of  her  love. 

Oh,  these  were  soldiers  too.  Not  theirs  the  reek 
and  riot,  the  heat  and  joy  of  battle.  They  fought 
the  bitter  fight  with  cold  and  hunger.  Their  tired 
and  bleeding  feet  trod  the  ways  of  Gethscmane; 
the  rich  and  tenderly  nurtured  side  by  side  with 
the  poor  and  lowly. 

Sometimes  a  terrible  blizzard  would  sweep 
down  upon  th^m  and  they  could  not  crouch 
down  seeking  shelter  under  the  rocks  by  the  rough 
trail  but  must  needs  struggle  on  since  to  falter 
then  meant  death  by  freezing. 

Alas !  for  the  many  tiny  hands  and  little  feet 
which  today  bear  terrible  proof  of  the  power  of 
those  icy  blasts,  and  alas  for  the  desolate  mothers 


HELLS  ON  EARTH  63 

whose  babes  knew  no  other  winding-sheet  than  the 
spotless  snow  and  whose  little  bodies  lie  thickly 
on  the  road  to  a  nation's  Calvary. 

On  Corfu  and  Corsica,  whither  the  Allies  trans- 
ferred the  refugees  when  at  last  they  arrived  at 
the  coast  of  Albania,  so  many  died  from  the  effects 
of  that  piteous  evacuation  that  the  islands  could 
not  accommodate  all  the  wasted  bodies  within 
their  soil,  and  they  had  to  be  loaded  on  barges  by 
hundreds,  taken  away  from  the  shore  and  com- 
mitted to  the  keeping  of  the  sea ; — that  sea  which 
in  life  had  been  denied  them  but  which  must  now 
forever  be  hallowed  to  Serbia  by  the  devoted 
hearts  that  have  found  rest  beneath  its  waves. 

Thousands  of  Serbian  soldiers  were  taken 
prisoners  in  those  terrible  days  of  fighting.  And 
what  was  their  lot? 

The  treatment  of  prisoners  in  Austria — proud, 
aristocratic  Austria! — is  awful  beyond  words. 
Forced  to  work  at  the  hardest  and  vilest  tasks,  fed 
upon  so-called  "turnip  soup,"  which  is  little  more 
than  unclean  water,  and  foul  scraps  of  unspeak- 
able black  bread — too  little  of  either  even  to  dull 


64  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

the  edge  of  appetite,  they  are  herded  in  draughty 
sheds  without  blankets  and  with  only  an  occa- 
sional ragged  sack  to  cover  their  wasted  bodies. 
Sick  and  well  are  crowded  together,  without  medi- 
cal attention,  and  when  a  man  grows  too  weak  to 
work  he  is  thrust  into  a  wooden  cage  and  there 
kept  until  merciful  death  lays  its  hand  on  him,  and 
he  can  carry  his  sorrows  into  an  unmarked  grave. 
Beaten  with  the  butts  of  rifles,  savagely  smashed 
into  their  faces,  kicked,  spat  upon  and  cursed, 
these  men  still  cling  to  life  hoping  they  may  yet, 
by  some  miracle,  be  freed  to  strike  again  for  the 
Serbia  of  their  dreams. 

Looking  backward  and  comparing  the  de- 
meanor of  the  prisoners  of  different  nationalities, 
the  thing  that  impressed  me  most  when  I  was  in 
Serbia  in  1915  was  the  air  of  utter  and  serene  con- 
tentment on  the  faces  of  the  Austrian  prisoners; 
and  in  1916,  the  suspicious,  but  relieved,  air  of 
the  Bulgarians,  when  they  found  that  they  were 
still  alive  and  unharmed  after  being  taken  by  the 
Serbians. 

The    Austrians     sang     and     joked     at     their 


HELLS  ON  EARTH  65 

work  and,  except  for  an  occasional  home- 
sick boy,  seemed  to  be  thoroughly  enjoying  them- 
selves. But  the  Bulgarians  could  not  believe  that 
their  captors — who  had  seen  the  mutilated  bodies 
of  their  brothers  rescued  from  the  enemies'  bloody 
hands — would  not  take  revenge  upon  them  in  kind. 
Serbian  soldiers  know  only  too  well  what  it 
means  to  fall  alive  into  the  hands  of  the  Bulga- 
rians, for  the  Bulgarian  is  a  Tartar  with  all  the 
cruel  instincts  of  the  race.  He  kills  his  enemy  as 
he  lies  wounded  or  shoots  his  prisoners  in  batches. 
Happy  are  these  if  death  alone  awaits  them  after 
capture. 

In  Belgrade  I  have  seen  pitiful  remnants 
of  men  who  have  been  rescued  from  the  hands 
of  the  foe,  whose  favorite  trick  is  to  mutilate 
in  some  horrible  manner  that  will  either  make 
those  who  look  upon  his  victim  shudder  with  hor- 
ror, or  rouse  one  to  sorry  laughter,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  wretched  man  of  whom  I  spoke  in  a  previous 
chapter.  In  either  case  the  man  is  barbarously 

marked  for  life. 

***** 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  CALL 

FROM  the  time  that  I  returned  to  England, 
where  I  was  then  living  for  a  while,  after 
the  close  of  my  hospital  work  in  Belgrade,  life 
had  been  smooth  and  pleasant.  My  home  in 
lovely  Hampshire  seemed  dearer  than  ever,  with 
its  great  trees  and  its  green  lawns.  The  days 
slipped  by  so  peacefully  that  the  suffering 
I  had  seen  seemed  almost  like  a  dream — 
yet  not  quite  a  dream,  for  always  there 
was  work  to  do,  money  to  be  raised,  clothing  to 
be  collected  and  sent  off  to  Serbia,  letters  from 
the  friends  I  had  made  in  Belgrade  and  replies  to 
be  sent.  And  always  in  my  heart  grew  and 
flourished  the  love  and  admiration  which  had  been 
implanted  there  by  the  courage  of  those  splendid 
soldiers  and  by  the  patience  and  suffering  of  those 
brave  and  gentle  women. 

66 


THE  CALL  67 

Early  in  1915,  a  meeting  was  held  in  the  Man- 
sion House  in  London,  by  the  Serbian  Relief  Fund, 
at  which  Herbert  Samuel,  T.  P.  O'Connor  and 
other  prominent  speakers  told  of  the  terrible  con- 
ditions in  Serbia.  The  horrors  of  the  typhus 
epidemic  were  so  vividly  presented  that  more  than 
one  person  in  the  audience  was  moved  to  volunteer 
to  go  out  and  minister  unto  agonized  Serbia. 

I  was  one  of  those  to  offer  my  services.  My  for- 
mer experience  among  the  soldiers  in  the  hospitals 
gave  me  reason  to  believe  that  I  could  again  be 
of  help,  but  on  application  to  the  Serbian  Relief 
Fund  I  discovered  that  the  fact  that  I  was  not 
"trained"  and  had  no  certificates  rendered  me  un- 
acceptable ;  my  knowledge  of  the  people,  their  cus- 
toms and  the  practical  experience  I  had  gained 
among  them,  being  apparently  of  littl^  value. 

However,  a  week  later,  Princess  Alexis  Kara- 
georgevitch,  the  American  wife  of  Prince  Alexis 
of  Serbia,  cousin  of  King  Peter,  wrote  to  me,  say- 
ing, "I  hear  the  Serbian  Relief  Fund  would  not 
take  you,  but  if  you  will  go  out  with  us,  Alexis 
and  I  will  be  only  too  glad  to  have  you.  We 


68  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

know  how  much  every  pair  of  willing  hands  is 
needed." 

Then  followed  a  hectic  week  of  preparation. 
Vaccination,  inoculation  against  typhoid,  proper 
clothing  in  which  to  do  any  work  that  might  be 
required  of  me,  settling  up  all  my  affairs  in  case 
I  did  not  return,  and  dozens  of  other  things,  in- 
cluding passports,  all  of  which  I  had  to  attend  to 
myself. 

Prince  and  Princess  Alexis  had  been  col- 
lecting medical  supplies  and  money  for  the 
stricken  people.  Mrs.  Leggett,  an  American  liv- 
ing in  London,  had  given  a  splendid  ambulance, 
and  many  committees  in  England  and  America 
had  collected  clothing,  dressings  and  drugs,  all  of 
which  were  sent  direct  from  England  to  Salonika, 
there  to  await  our  arrival. 

Captain  Nicholas  Georgcvitch  was  acting  as 
Aide  to  the  Prince,  and  it  was  splendid  to  sec  how 
he  worked.  He  would  trust  no  one  to  mark  the 
many  bales  and  cases  containing  the  precious 
stores,  and  I  was  much  impressed  to  find  this 
immaculate  vounrj  man  kneeling  on  dustv  ware- 


THE  CALL  69 

house  floors  with  a  stencil  in  one  hand  and  a  brush 
dripping  with  black  paint  in  the  other,  solemnly 
putting  on  the  addresses.  I  asked  him  why  he 
did  not  have  it  done  by  the  packers. 

"If  these  things  go  astray,  it  is  my  fault !"  was 
his  answer. 

We  crossed  from  Folkstone  to  Boulogne  and 
went  through  endless  examinations  though,  owing 
to  the  high  rank  of  the  Prince,  I  was  told  these 
formalities  were  less  severe  than  ordinarily  is  the 
case.  Prince  Alexis  having  lived  many  years  in 
Paris  and  being  well  known  there,  the  authorities 
were  very  considerate  on  our  arrival  at  the  station, 
and  we  were  able  to  set  off  with  little  delay  for  the 
hotel.  The  streets  were  filled  with  black-robed  wo- 
men and  children  and  with  blue-gray  clad  soldiers. 
On  every  face  was  a  look  of  grave  determination. 
I  seemed  to  see  written  there  those  heroic  words 
of  the  French  commander:  "THEY  SHALL  NOT 
PASS." 

I  was  hurrying  one  day  along  the  Champs 
Elysees  when  I  saw  a  sad  little  group  of  soldiers, 
real  "poilus,"  brown  and  bearded  but  with  the 


70  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

hospital  pallor  showing  through  the  tan,  wander- 
ing aimlessly  under  the  trees.  One  was  on  crutches 
— his  right  leg  missing ;  another  had  only  one  arm, 
while  the  third,  with  a  green  shade  over  his  eyes, 
had  his  head  swathed  in  bandages.  They  were 
evidently  strangers  in  Paris,  perhaps  from  the 
Northern  invaded  provinces,  and  certainly  home- 
sick and  lonely. 

As  I  looked,  suddenly  a  gorgeous,  glittering 
automobile  came  purring  smoothly  down  the 
road  driven  by  an  immaculately-groomed  man 
of  middle-age — and  this  was  an  unusual  sight, 
for  few  private  cars  were  in  use  in  Paris. 
With  a  gentle  swerve  the  beautiful  car  drew  up 
at  the  curb  and  the  owner  leaned  out  and  said 
something  to  the  three  soldiers  of  which  I  caught 
only  the  words  "Mes  freres — "  (my  brothers). 

The  invalids  stared  in  uncomprehending  wonder, 
but  the  gentleman  spoke  again  and  waved  his  arm 
hospitably  toward  the  tonneau.  Slowly  the 
soldiers  smiled!  Then  they  feebly  lifted  them- 
selves, their  sticks  and  crutches  into  the  lux- 
urious vehicle  (with  many  injunctions  to  each 


,  THE  CALL  71 

other  to  be  careful),  and  the  last  I  saw  of  the 
party  they  were  whirling  gayly  away  amid  the 
blessings  and  cheers  of  a  little  crowd  which,  like 
myself,  had  watched  the  pretty  episode. 

After  dinner  the  first  evening,  Prince  George 
of  Serbia,  eldest  son  of  King  Peter,  came  in  and  I 
was  able  to  observe,  without  seeming  to  do  so,  this 
interesting  personage.  Very  tall,  almost  gaunt, 
with  broad  shoulders  held  in  a  slightly  stooping 
position  and  with  hands  always  buried  in  his 
trouser  pockets,  he  reminded  me  strongly  of  his 
father  the  King.  Abrupt  and  restless,  utterly 
careless  of  the  conventions,  said  to  be  kind,  but 
never  tender,  a  passionate  hater  and  an  ardent 
patriot,  Prince  George  has  much  of  the  charm  of 
a  high-spirited  and  undisciplined  boy. 

Surprised  to  see  him  in  Paris  at  this  time,  some 
one  asked,  "And  were  you  in  this  campaign,  your 
Highness?"  Instantly,  his  eyes  blazing,  he  opened 
his  tunic  and  shirt  to  expose  his  lean,  brown  body 
with  a  fresh  and  flaming  scar.  Then,  turning, 
he  showed  a  corresponding  one  at  the  back  where 
the  bullet  has  passed  out. 


72  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

"You  think  I  do  not  love  my  country,"  he  ex- 
claimed. "Well,  there's  my  proof." 

Then  I  was  told  the  story  how,  in  the  midst 
of  a  fierce  battle,  he  had  come  upon  a  group  of 
Serbian  soldiers,  dazed  and  idle. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  he  demanded. 

"Prince,  our  officers  are  all  killed  and  we  do 
not  know  what  to  do." 

"Follow  me,"  roared  George,  and  he  dashed  into 
the  Austrians'  front  rank.  The  men  did  follow 
and  when  the  enemy  had  been  driven  back  they 
returned  bringing  the  Prince  helpless  and  bleed- 
ing profusely  but  still  full  of  fight. 

After  a  few  days  in  Paris,  we  started  for  Mar- 
seilles. Our  party  formed  a  fairly  imposing 
spectacle.  There  were  the  Prince  and  Princess 
Alexis,  Captain  Georgevitch,  myself,  the  Princess' 
English  maid,  her  French  chef,  the  French  chauf- 
feur, (who  was  to  keep  the  ambulance  and  the 
touring  car  in  order,  driving  them  whenever  re- 
quired) the  chauffeur's  wife,  who  was  to  be  cham- 
bermaid, a  pair  of  bulldogs,  an  Italian  dog,  deli- 
cate and  beautiful,  called  Roma,  a?nl  a  tiny  Pekin- 


THE  CALL  73 

ese.  There  were  thirty-eight  trunks,  some  of  them 
filled  with  household  linens,  curtains  and  silver; 
for  the  Prince  and  Princess  intended  taking  up 
their  permanent  residence  in  Serbia.  How  little 
we  then  thought  of  the  further  terrible  events  so 
soon  to  overwhelm  the  country. 

Our  first  stop  was  at  Malta,  where  we  went 
ashore.  The  streets  were  hot  and  glaring  with 
sunshine  which  was  most  cheering  after  the  cold 
raw  bleakness  of  London  and  even  Paris.  The 
Governor  sent  a  launch  to  take  us  on  a  trip  in  the 
harbor  and  we  were  much  interested  to  see  the 
battleships,  destroyers  and  other  vessels,  and  the 
enormous  piles  of  shells  and  cases  of  various  mu- 
nitions lying  on  the  quays  ready  for  trans-ship- 
ping. 

England  was  preparing  for  war  at  last  on 
a  large  scale.  Hospital  ships  were  arriving  from 
Salonika  and  even  farther  East,  filled  with  sick  or 
wounded,  large  numbers  of  whom  came  from  Gal- 
lipoli.  The  streets  of  Malta  were  full  of  troops 
and  staff  officers,  while  convalescents,  and  soldiers 


74  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

returning  from  India  on  their  way  to  the  front, 
chatted  at  every  corner. 

A  few  days  later  we  arrived  at  Athens,  where 
we  were  met  by  Count  Mercati,  Court  Chamberlain 
to  Queen  Sophia  of  Greece,  and  son-in-law  of 
Princess  Alexis.  We  had  a  delightful  day  and 
were  sorry  to  leave  when  our  ship  sailed.  The 
three  little  grandchildren  of  Princess  Alexis  saw 
us  off  with  assurances  that  they  would  soon  come 
to  see  us  in  Serbia, — "As  soon  as  you  have  got 
every  one  well,"  said  eight-year-old  Daria. 

We  had  on  board  several  French  officers  who 
were  going  to  join  their  forces  at  Lemnos,  two 
infantry  officers  in  the  beautiful  blue-gray  cordu- 
roy field  uniform,  an  aviation  hero,  handsome  and 
bashful  as  a  girl  but  the  holder  of  two  of  the 
highest  French  decorations  for  valor,  and  a  dozen 
other  interesting  personalities,  including  an  Eng- 
lish officer  on  a  mission  for  the  Admiralty. 

We  touched  at  Dedcagatch,  the  Bulgarian  port 
(then  neutral)  where  all  stores  and  supplies  for 
the  allied  troops  at  the  Dardanelles  were  landed, 
and  we  could  hear  the  thunder  of  the  big  guns  as 


THE  CALL  75 

the  warships  waged  their  fruitless  fight  to  pass 
the  Narrows. 

We  watched  the  supply  ships  lying  at 
anchor,  with  the  sailors'  washing  whipping  in 
the  wind.  We  saw  the  bare,  gray  warehouses  on 
the  shore  and  pyramids  of  cases  with  pigmy  fig- 
ures of  soldiers  swarming  over  them,  building  them 
up  or  carrying  them  piecemeal  away.  Over  all 
hung  a  heavy  dim-colored  haze  brought  by  the 
wind  from  beyond  the  sheltering  hills.  This  was 
the  smoke  of  battle !  Over  us  the  lowering  clouds 
and  below  a  sullen,  choppy  gray  sea — fit  setting 
for  the  tragedy  that  was  soon  to  follow  the  Allies' 
expedition  against  Constantinople. 

From  Dedeagatch  to  Salonika  is  but  a  short 
journey,  and  I  am  happy  to  say  we  arrived  during 
a  brief  interval  of  fine  weather,  so  that  my  first 
view  of  the  ancient  Macedonian  city  was  a  highly 
satisfactory  one.  My  previous  two  trips  to 
Serbia  had  been  made  overland.  The  beautiful 
curving  harbor  encircled  us,  its  shores  jeweled 
with  blue  and  pink  and  milk-white  villas  in  an 
emerald  setting  of  trees ;  before  us  the  quays  and 


76  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

modern  houses  of  the  town  with  the  famous  White 
Tower  at  one  end  and  the  small  dark  Custom 
House  at  the  other.  Climbing  up  the  hill  was  the 
Old  Town,  with  its  quaint  tumble-down  houses  and 
mosques  with  their  delicate  minarets,  all  sur- 
rounded by  the  wall  which  has  been  its  protection 
for  many  centuries.  Across  the  harbor  sat 
Mount  Olympus  crowned  with  snow. 

All  the  hotels  are  on  the  quay  side,  or  near  it. 
We  went  directly  to  the  "Olympos  Palace"  and 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  find  excellent  rooms. 
Our  arrival  caused  some  excitement.  The  Prince 
and  Princess  were  overwhelmed  by  callers  and 
deluged  with  invitations,  most  of  wThich  were 
evaded. 

We  found  that  our  mountain  of  stores  had  ar- 
rived but  the  boxes  were  scattered  and  buried  in 
the  dilapidated,  untidy  storehouses  on  the  quay. 
It  seemed  an  almost  hopeless  task  to  reclaim  them, 
but  the  Prince  and  Captain  Georgevitch,  working 
day  after  day,  with  their  own  hands,  dug  through 
tons  of  freight  and  at  last  managed  to  get  all 
our  bales  and  cases  together  in  one  place.  What 


THE  CALL  77 

their  opinion  of  Greek  porters  was  I   dare   not 
state ! 

This  took  ten  days,  but  finally  we  started  on 
the  last  lap  of  our  journe}'  over  the  plains  of 
northern  Macedonia  where  symmetrical  little  hills 
rose  suddenly  from  the  flat  earth ;  past  miles  of 
swamps  filled  with  rank  weeds  ;  sometimes,  between 
clumps  of  tall  marsh  grass,  catching  a  glimpse  of 
lily-ponds  where  blue-gray  herons  dozed  among  the 
flowers,  and  occasionally  meeting  to  our  amaze- 
ment a  shepherd  so  primitive  in  dress  and  appear- 
ance that  he  seemed  as  though  translated  directly 
from  the  days  when  the  gods  dwelt  on  Olympus. 
Then,  in  the  distance,  blue  hills  and  our  train 
puffed  slowly  around  a  long  bend  and  into  Serbia. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THROUGH  BEAUTIFUL  SERBIA 

GHEVGHELIA  is  the  frontier  town  of  Serbia,  and 
it  was  there  we  saw  the  first  concrete  signs  of  war. 
Just  over  the  hills  which  here  form  the  boundary 
between  Serbia  and  Bulgaria  a  comitadji  (brigand 
band)  of  two  thousand  Bulgarians  was  lying  in 
wait  to  sweep  down  on  the  town — to  loot  and 
burn  and  destroy. 

But  near  the  station  Serbia's  guns  were  trained 
on  these  same  hills  and  her  tall  gaunt  soldiers 
were  alert  and  ready  to  repel  the  invaders.  Up 
the  hillsides  clung  the  tents  and  grass  huts  of  the 
troops,  while  along  the  railway  line  low  gray 
wooden  crosses  marked  the  graves  of  those  al- 
ready fallen  in  defense  of  their  country. 

The  old  men  and  young  boys  who  were  strong 
enough  to  carry  guns,  but  who  could  not  stand 
the  rigors  of  campaigning,  were  everywhere 
guarding  the  railway  lines.  It  sometimes  hap- 

78 


THROUGH  BEAUTIFUL  SERBIA        79 

pened  that  roving  bands  of  Bulgarians  would 
creep  down  the  hillside  and  surprise  them.  Then 
fresh  graves  and  new  crosses  would  appear  along 
the  line. 

It  was  no  uncommon  sight  to  see  boys  of  four- 
teen and  men  of  eighty  standing  by  the  track,  or 
sitting  by  their  huts  of  cornstalks  close  by,  and 
always  with  their  guns  held  in  their  brown  hands 
or  coddled  in  the  crook  of  their  arms.  Always 
ready,  weak  or  old  though  they  might  be,  yet  were 
they  strong  enough  to  give  the  signal  when  danger 
threatened  and,  if  need  be,  to  lay  down  their  lives 
for  the  country  which  they  loved. 

At  this  time  Bulgaria  was  not  officially  at  war 
with  Serbia,  but  there  is  no  doubt  whatever  that 
these  bands  of  brigands  were  employed  by  Austria 
to  harass  the  Serbians  in  the  south  and  east,  so  as 
to  keep  as  many  soldiers  as  possible  engaged  there. 

The  last  time  that  Austria's  army  was  driven 
out  the  retreating  forces  left  an  enormous  number 
of  sick  and  wounded  behind  them  and  among  the 
sufferers  were  many  with  typhus.  The  infection 
quickly  spread  and  soon  the  deaths  were  so  numcr- 


80  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

ous  that  in  the  smaller  villages  the  dead  could 
not  be  buried.  The  only  way  the  bodies  could 
be  disposed  of  was  by  piling  rubbish  in  the  door- 
ways of  the  houses  where  such  deaths  had  occurred 
and  setting  fire  to  it.  In  this  way  the  contents 
were  burned,  and  with  them  the  various  vermin, 
which  were  the  chief  factors  in  spreading  the 
disease,  were  destroyed. 

From  Ghevghelia,  we  traveled  north,  through 
Uskub  where  Claude  and  Alice  Askew,  English 
novelists  (who  had  been  doing  splendid  work  in 
Serbia  and  who  have  since  lost  their  lives  on  a 
torpedoed  vessel)  came  to  the  station  to  greet 
the  Prince  and  Princess  and  to  bring  the  latest 
news  of  how  the  work  was  progressing.  We 
learned  of  the  death  of  many  of  the  doctors, 
nurses  and  other  relief  workers  who  had  gone  out 
from  England,  France  and  America  as  soon  as 
the  typhus  epidemic  made  its  appearance.  But 
in  no  case  was  any  worker  willing  to  leave  Serbia. 
From  the  time  the  great  need  of  help  was  made 
known,  volunteers  came  in  large  numbers,  fearless 
and  ready. 


THROUGH  BEAUTIFUL  SERBIA        81 

There  are  graves  in  Serbia  today  of  foreign 
men  and  women  whose  names  are  imperishably  en- 
graved on  Serbian  hearts.  Among  these  martyrs 
to  the  cause  of  mercy  were  Madge  Neil  Fraser, 
Scotland's  girl  golf-champion,  who  died  during 
the  typhus  epidemic,  martyr  to  love  and  duty; 
Richard  Chichester,  heir  to  a  great  British 
title,  worker  and  philanthropist;  Mrs.  Hadley, 
sister  of  General  French,  who  was  killed  by  a 
bursting  shell  a  few  months  ago  in  the  presence 
of  her  daughter,  while  on  duty  at  Monastir;  the 
American  Dr.  Cooke,  typhus  victim,  and  Emily 
Louisa  Simmonds,  an  American  Red  Cross  nurse 
who  offered  her  all  and  suffered  much  for  Serbia. 
There  were  many  others  also,  heroes  all,  who  gave 
their  lives  for  a  country  not  their  own — who  died 
nobly  for  the  sake  of  a  suffering  people. 

When  we  arrived  at  Nish,  we  found  that  the 
train  for  Vrgntze,  our  destination,  had  gone.  The 
station  master  made  up  a  "special"  for  us  and  we 
started  out  in  pursuit  of  the  "local."  On  over- 
taking it,  we  found  it  crowded  with  sick  and 
wounded,  who  were  being  sent  to  the  hospitals  at 


82  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Vrgntze,  and  with  other  workers  like  ourselves. 
Space  was  made  for  us  however,  and  we  went  rat- 
tling away  over  the  beautiful  rolling  valley  of  the 
Morava. 

The  single  track  railway  wound  in  and  out 
among  the  hills  and  through  little  towns  and  vil- 
lages, whose  white  houses  with  glowing,  red-tiled 
roofs  were  set  in  small  gardens  that  later  on  would 
be  gay  with  roses,  lilies  and  pink  oleanders.  Some- 
times we  could  see  the  larger  house  of  a  Zadruga, 
surrounded  by  its  cultivated  fields  and  by  the 
smaller  cottages  clustering  like  white  chickens 
around  a  mother  hen.  The  trees  of  the  fruit  or- 
chards sheltering  the  little  homesteads  would  soon 
be  bursting  into  leaf.  In  the  muddy  ditches 
ducks  quacked  and  paddled,  while  long  lines  of 
solemn  geese  raised  their  heads  inquiringly  toward 
the  passer-by. 

Often  in  the  towns,  we  would  see  the  domes  and 
minaret  of  a  Moslim  Mosque  (rising  side  by  side 
with  the  tower  and  Cross  of  the  Orthodox 
Church),  reminding  us  of  the  long  Turkish  reign. 
We  happened  to  pass  along  the  route  from  Nish 


THROUGH  BEAUTIFUL  SERBIA        83 

to  Vrgntze  on  a  market  day,  so  the  roads  were  full 
of  gayly  clad  peasants  leading  their  small  donkeys 
or  driving  the  slow  moving,  dreamy  oxen. 

Sometimes  a  detachment  of  cavalry  would  dash 
from  a  gap  in  the  hills  and  for  a  time  gallop  be- 
sides our  not-too-swiftly-moving  train,  or  a  col- 
umn of  Austrian  prisoners  in  their  stained  and 
ragged  uniforms  would  pass,  unarmed  and  almost 
unguarded,  to  their  work  of  road-making  or  re- 
construction. They  did  not  look  sullen  or  un- 
happy. I  was  told  that  many  were  Austrian  Slavs 
who  were  only  too  glad  not  to  fight  against  those 
whom  they  look  upon  as  their  own  countrymen. 

After  some  hours  we  saw  through  the  pour- 
ing rain,  which  suddenly  swept  round  the  shoulder 
of  a  hill,  the  dense  grove  of  trees  that  shelters 
beautiful  Vrgntze,  and  in  a  few  moments  our  loco- 
motive puffed  wearily  into  the  station,  which  is 
two  miles  from  the  town.  All  the  notables  of  the 
district  were  at  the  station  to  meet  their  High- 
nesses, and  there  was  a  long  and  rather  damp  re- 
ception. 

We  found  the  Princess'  automobile,  which  had 


84  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

preceded  us  from  Salonika,  waiting,  and  were  soon 
on  our  way  to  town.  The  road  was  so  bad  we  had 
grave  fears  for  the  springs,  but  we  arrived  with- 
out accident  and  were  soon  eating  a  good  hot 
lunch  in  the  Villa  Agnes,  which  was  to  be  our  home. 
This  Villa  was  the  only  available  house  suitable 
for  the  good-sized  establishment  of  Prince  Alexis. 
The  owner  moved  out  shortly  after  our  arrival 
and  the  whole  place  was  turned  over  to  him. 

In  spite  of  the  rain,  which  continued  to  fall  in 
torrents,  I  thought  I  had  never  seen  a  more  beau- 
tiful place  than  Vrgntze.  Imagine  a  little  L  shaped 
valley  between  blue  hills  thickly  clad  with  trees 
and  starred  with  white  villas.  Through  the  valley 
runs  a  tiny  river  only  about  ten  feet  wide  but 
making  enough  noise  for  a  stream  three  times  its 
size.  On  either  bank  are  graveled  walks  which 
spread  and  wind  away  under  great  acacia  and 
lime  trees,  and  beyond  the  lovely  park  stand  the 
villas  of  the  townspeople,  the  shops,  restaurants 
and  cafes. 

In  the  park  near  the  river  is  a  large  open 
pavilion  in  which  sometimes  a  band  played. 


THROUGH  BEAUTIFUL  SERBIA        85 

Nearby  are  the  medicinal  bath  houses  and  mineral 
springs,  for  Vrgntzc  is  a  well  known  health  resort, 
and  the  waters  have  all  the  virtues  of  those  of 
Carlsbad  or  Ems. 

But  everywhere  in  the  pretty  town  were  evi- 
dences of  the  suffering  that  comes  in  war's  train. 

At  the  edge  of  the  town  is  a  large  new  hotel, 
the  Therapia,  which  had  been  converted  to  a  hos- 
pital by  Professor  Berry  and  his  wife,  Dr.  Berry. 
Still  further  out,  where  the  river  spread  in  rip- 
pling shallows  over  a  wide  stony  bed,  was  a  long, 
low  building — the  Isolation  Hospital.  On  the  hill- 
side above  the  town  was  a  hospital  run  by  an 
English  Military  Medical  Officer,  Major  Banks, 
and  near  it  a  Convalescent  Hospital  under  Mr. 
Gwin  of  California. 

Many  of  the  cafes  and  restaurants  had  been 
taken  over  and  made  into  hospitals  by  the  Ser- 
bians. In  one  I  found  Greek  surgeons  and  a  French 
matron,  while  among  the  nurses  were  Americans, 
English  and  Russians.  The  streets  were  full  of 
convalescent  officers  and  men,  while  the  hospitals 
disclosed  ghastly  sights.  Men  lacking  both  legs 


86  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

and  an  arm,  others  with  one  leg  and  no  arms, 
men  whose  heads  had  been  broken  by  shrapnel  or 
shell  splinters  lying  paralyzed,  their  tragic  eyes 
following  us  as  we  passed.  Young  boys  with 
minds  unbalanced,  sound  of  body  but  equally  help- 
less, watched  us  stupidly,  or  shouted  the  mirth- 
less laugh  of  sheer  madness. 

There  was  not  room  enough  in  the  hospitals  nor 
sufficient  medical  supplies  for  all  the  soldiers, 
so  little  or  nothing  could  be  done  for  the  civil 
population. 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  Stobart,  a  fine  English  woman, 
did  establish  roadside  dispensaries  where  women 
and  children  could  receive  treatment.  But,  valu- 
able as  her  work  was,  it  was  only  a  drop  in  the 
bucket  of  the  awful  need.  Only  for  typhus  could 
aid  be  given  elsewhere,  for  of  course  it  was  impera- 
tive that  this  disease  be  utterly  stamped  out. 

One  day  a  woman  staggered  up  to  Major 
Banks'  hospital  and,  falling  on  the  door-step,  died. 
With  her  were  two  little  children,  both  within  a 
few  hours  of  death.  A  corner  of  a  crowded  ward 
was  cleared  for  them  and  I  saw  them  just  before 


Ilvia 


o 


THROUGH  BEAUTIFUL  SERBIA       87 

the  merciful  end.  In  the  same  ward  lay  two  strong 
men  struggling  for  breath.  They  also  died  that 
day  of  pneumonia.  Round  them,  the  cots  nearly 
touching  so  cramped  was  the  space,  lay  their  com- 
rades who  wished  to  get  well  only  that  they  might 
go  out  again  and  fight  the  implacable  enemy. 

On  that  day  I  went  sadly  back  to  my  store- 
room at  the  Villa  Agnes  and  began  unpacking  a 
great  wooden  case  which  had  come  from  America. 
In  it  I  found  several  parcels  of  body  belts,  "cholera 
belts"  we  call  them  out  there,  and  in  the  corner 
of  each  was  sewn  a  tiny  American  flag.  A  sudden 
rush  of  tears  blinded  me  and  I  pressed  the  little 
flag  to  my  lips  and  broke  down  completely.  The 
thought  of  my  own  countrywomen  giving  their 
time  and  devotion  to  help  us  do  our  work,  so  far 
away  in  that  little  known  part  of  Europe  filled 
me  with  appreciative  emotion. 


CHAPTER  IX 

AT  WORK 

WHEX  I  offered  myself  for  work  in  Serbia  in 
the  typhus  epidemic,  I  thought  I  would  be  obliged 
to  nurse  the  victims  of  that  dread  disease,  but  my 
orders  were  to  take  charge  of  the  medical  stores 
which  we  had  brought  and  the  further  supplies 
which  were  to  follow  from  various  English  and 
American  sources. 

My  duties  at  Vrgntze  began  at  6:30  in  the 
morning,  when  I  was  usually  found  in  the  store- 
room opening  up  for  the  day.  The  round  of  the 
hospitals  followed,  and  when  I  had  secured  lists  of 
their  needs,  I  returned  to  the  store-room,  unpacked 
and  stored  the  contents  of  the  large  cases  of  sup- 
plies of  various  sorts  which  were  arriving  fre- 
quently from  English  and  American  sj-mpathiz- 
ers.  Then  I  made  duplicate  lists  of  the  require- 
ments of  each  hospital,  packed  the  goods  on 
stretchers,  which  were  brought  up  to  the  Villa  each 

88 


AT  WORK  89 

day  by  the  prisoner-orderlies,  and  received  and 
filed  the  receipts  from  the  matrons,  or  storekeepers 
of  the  hospitals. 

Some  of  the  hospitals,  notably  that  of  Profes- 
sor Berry,  had  their  own  direct  sources  of  supply, 
but  the  drugs,  instruments,  dressings  and  clothing 
which  had  been  collected  by  the  Prince  and  Prin- 
cess Alexis  did  an  infinite  amount  of  good. 
By  their  great  devotion  and  their  thoughtful 
kindness  to  everyone  around  them,  they  endeared 
themselves  to  us  all.  They  were  called  by  the  sol- 
diers "Our  Prince"  and  "Our  Princess,"  and  no 
man  was  too  ill  or  too  sad  to  cheer,  however  feeble 
his  voice,  when  the  Prince  looked  back  from  the 
door  after  hours  of  friendly  conversation  with  the 
invalids  and  called  out  bravely,  "Till  tomorrow, 
comrades !" 

The  Princess  has  a  beautifully  trained  voice, 
and  is  a  most  accomplished  musician.  There  was 
a  good  piano  in  the  Villa  Agnes  and  each  evening 
she  would  play  and  sing,  to  the  comfort  of  us  all 
after  the  often  harrowing  scenes  of  the  day. 

Sometimes    we    would    motor    over    to    nearby 


90  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

towns  on  market-day,  and  come  back  with  our 
car  loaded  with  rude  pottery,  or  native  rugs  and 
osier  mats  for  the  stone  floors  of  the  Villa. 

About  twice  a  week  Princess  Alexis  would  hale 
me  forth  from  the  store-room  for  a  walk.  We 
would  go  through  the  park  and  strike  off  into 
lanes  where  the  fringy-petaled  clematis  made  close 
fragrant  curtains  over  the  high,  unkempt  hedges 
on  either  side. 

These  rambles  were  a  great  treat  after  the 
strain  of  the  sights  in  the  hospitals  and  the  hard, 
often  manual,  labor  in  the  store-room.  We  would 
return  with  our  arms  filled  with  the  gorgeous  wild 
flowers  for  which  Serbia  is  famous,  and  these 
would  be  massed  in  the  great  earthen  jars  by  the 
doors  of  the  Villa  Agnes  and  in  the  little  salon. 
With  books,  photographs  and  beautiful  pieces  of 
old  brocade  from  the  inexhaustible  trunks,  the 
bare,  rectangular  rooms  took  on  a  comforting 
look  of  Home. 

The  food  was  sparse  and  poor,  but  it  was  ex- 
quisitely cooked  and  daintily  served.  Now  I  hap- 
pened to  be  possessed  of  robust  health  and  a 


AT  WORK  91 

splendid  appetite  beyond  what  the  others  seemed 
to  have,  so  these  delicate  meals  did  not  satisfy 
me.  However,  I  soon  discovered  a  remedy. 

Before  leaving  Salonika,  I  had  been  romantically 
attracted  by  a  sign  advertising  "Honey  of  Hymet- 
tus."  Shades  of  the  ancient  Olympians — it  was 
irresistible !  So  when  I  started  north  I  purchased 
a  large  wooden  box  (which  got  in  everyone's  way 
and  was  an  absolute  nuisance)  containing  four 
kilo  jars  of  the  famous  honey.  During  the  jour- 
ney I  often  regretted  my  sentimental  lapse,  for  I 
am  not  at  all  fond  of  sweets  of  any  kind,  but  at 
Vrgntze  that  honey  was  truly  a  god-send. 

So  there  might  be  no  danger  of  my  springing  to 
the  table  and  greedily  devouring  all  the  beautifully 
prepared  but  woefully  skinny  chicken  which  was 
to  be  "dinner"  for  four,  all  the  small  dish  cf  salad, 
which  had  been  painfully  procured  at  great  ex- 
pense, and  all  the  airy  vanilla  wafers  which  usu- 
ally formed  our  dessert,  I  would  retire  to  my  own 
room  before  the  meal  was  served  and,  locking  the 
door,  swallow  three  or  four  spoonfuls  of  rich, 
cloying  honey  and  then  take  my  place  at  the 


92  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

table  with  a  politely  dulled  appetite.  I  never 
want  to  taste  honey  again! 

As  there  was  no  plumbing  in  the  Villa,  all  water 
had  to  be  brought  from  the  public  fountains  in 
big  tins  hung  on  a  pole  across  the  shoulders  of  a 
servant.  Our  water-carrier  was  an  Austrian  pris- 
oner named  Basil.  It  was  particularly  difficult  to 
converse  with  him  because,  curiously  enough,  his 
only  language  was  Russians  and  that  of  such  a 
poor  quality  that  even  the  Serbs  could  hardly  un- 
derstand him.  For  days  he  hung  around  the  store- 
room door  and  tried  to  tell  me  something. 

From  his  contortions  of  face  and  body  I  was 
not  quite  sure  whether  he  had  a  bad  pain  and 
wanted  medicine  or  whether  he  desired  me  to  get 
him  a  job  as  an  acrobat.  But  at  last  I  began  to 
understand  and  to  sympathize.  He  wished  me  to 
give  him  some  clothes  to  replace  the  stained,  old 
Austrian  uniform  he  was  wearing.  When  I  had 
found  him  an  outfit,  he  was  the  happiest  man  in 
Serbia,  and  the  first  time  he  appeared  before  the 
household  we  sat  down  on  the  door-step  and 
laughed  until  we  were  weak. 


AT  WORK  93 

Now  Basil  had  a  queer  shape,  broad  and  heavy, 
with  short  sturdy  legs,  long  arms  and  a  round, 
bullet  head.  His  face,  at  the  first  glance,  looked 
like  that  of  a  thorough-going  ruffian  with  its 
squinting  eyes,  thick,  blubber  lips  and  flat,  broken 
nose.  But  when  he  smiled,  you  saw  that  he  was 
just  a  battered,  kindly,  simple  soul  with  the  heart 
of  a  faithful  dog. 

Imagine  him  then,  in  a  pair  of  old  dress 
trousers,  heavily  braided  and  six  inches  too  long, 
a  black  calico  shirt  with  large  white  stars 
and  crescents  printed  on  it,  no  collar  but  a 
big  button  at  the  neck  of  the  shirt,  evidently  made 
of  sealing  wax,  an  excellent  tweed  shooting  jacket 
with  leather  buttons  and  a  belt  which,  not  meet- 
ing, hung  down  his  back  below  his  knees.  On  his 
feet  was  a  pair  of  glistening  new  "Arctics"  and. 
coming  down  to  his  ears,  which  were  forced  out 
at  an  angle  of  4*5  degrees,  a  flat-brimmed  high- 
crowned  derby  hat  of  most  ancient  vintage. 

As  long  as  he  was  in  uniform,  Basil  had  saluted 
us  in  approved  military  fashion,  but  from  the 
moment  when  he  burst  upon  the  family's  astounded 


94  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

gaze  in  civilian  clothing,  his  salutation  consisted 
in  depressing  the  brim  of  his  great  hat  until  it 
stood  up  straight  in  the  air,  then  releasing  it  and 
letting  it  fall  again  upon  his  ears  with  a  loud 
"plop." 

At  our  first  view  of  the  transformation  the 
Prince  roared,  the  Princess  shrieked,  the  maids 
giggled  hysterically;  the  chef,  looking  out  of 
his  kitchen  window,  chuckled  until  we  thought 
he  would  have  apoplexy.  But  Basil  stood  grinning 
with  pride  before  us.  Later,  he  beckoned  me  to 
the  back  gate  with  mysterious  gestures  and  showed 
me  a  grayish  bundle  which  he  raised  carefully  in 
the  air  and  then  kicked  violently  into  the  road. 
As  it  fell  apart  in  the  ditch,  I  saw  that  it  was  his 
discarded  Austrian  uniform. 

Another  interesting  member  of  the  establish- 
ment was  a  Serbian  gendarme,  or  soldier  guard, 
named  Ilyia,  who  had  spent  some  time  in  the 
United  States  and  spoke  English  quite  well.  He 
was  a  fine  built  fellow  about  six  feet  three  inches 
tall,  and  broad  in  proportion  and,  though  recently 
convalescent  from  a  serious  wound,  was  still  quite 


AT  WORK  95 

the  strongest  man  I  have  ever  seen.  He  would 
take  the  big  Red  Cross  cases,  which  two  men 
could  hardly  move,  from  the  ox-carts  at  the  gate 
and  carry  them  up  the  steep  five  hundred  yards  of 
garden-path  with  apparent  ease. 

He  had  made  money  in  America  and  had  opened 
a  "cafe"  in  Pittsburg,  where  he  was  doing  well, 
when  the  war  began  in  the  Balkans.  His  J  .'ty 
to  Mother  Serbia  had  brought  him  back  to  fight. 
One  day,  Prince  Alexis  asked  him,  "Ilyia,  if  you 
were  so  prosperous  in  the  United  States,  why  did 
you  return  to  Serbia  and  leave  it  all?" 

"Well,  Highness,"  was  his  reply,  "you  see  I 
felt  I  just  had  to  kill  some  of  Serbia's  enemies — 
and  I've  done  it." 

When  Ilyia  was  dressed  in  his  dark  blue  uni- 
form with  its  scarlet  pipings,  the  white,  blue  and 
scarlet  enamel  "Cocarde"  on  his  smart  cap  and 
high,  well-fitting,  patent  leather  boots,  he  was  a 
handsome  and  an  imposing  figure. 


CHAPTER  X 

AUSTRIAN  PRISONERS 

DURING  the  epidemic  the  Austrians,  fearing  in- 
fection, kept  away  from  any  possibility  of  contact 
with  the  Serbians.  No  fighting  took  place  for 
many  months  and  we  were  able  to  go  about  our 
work  systematically  without  distraction. 

The  Austrian  prisoners  at  Vrgntze  were  a 
strong,  healthy-looking  lot  of  men,  and  though 
their  uniforms  were  somewhat  ragged  and  stained 
they  were  quite  sufficient  for  comfort  and  decency. 
In  the  Park  near  the  Springs  was  a  stone  and 
brick  building  which  was  used  as  a  fumigating 
station,  while  farther  away,  near  the  Post  Office 
was  the  prisoners'  wash  house  where  the  steaming 
tubs  were  always  full  of  linen,  and  even  cloth 
garments. 

The  men  moved  about  their  work  joking  and 
whistling,  seemingly  well  content  to  be  busy  and 
far  from  the  battlefields.  On  the  roads  we  would 

9G 


AUSTRIAN  PRISONERS  97 

meet  squads  of  them  marching  to  or  from  their 
work,  and  the  discipline  was  admirable  as  they 
swung  along  staring  curiously  at  the  Princess 
who,  with  her  golden  hair  and  beautiful  Paris 
gowns,  naturally  attracted  attention.  I  may  say 
here  that,  despite  her  dainty,  fragile  appearance, 
she  did  her  full  slmre  of  the  hard  and  often  dis- 
tasteful work  that  demanded  so  many  pairs  of 
willing  hands. 

One  day  a  group  of  prisoners  stood  at  atten- 
tion as  we  passed,  and  among  them  I  recognized  a 
waiter  who  had  often  served  me  in  a  London  res- 
taurant. They  were  alwa3's  most  respectful  and 
never,  I  believe,  gave  any  trouble  to  the  authori- 
ties. The  only  cause  for  complaint  I  ever 
had  against  the  prisoners  was  that  when  Arctics 
were  requisitioned  by  the  hospitals  and  I  sent  them 
on  the  stretchers  with  other  stores,  one  or  two 
pairs  would  always  disappear  en  route.  However, 
one  could  hardly  blame  the  men,  since  footgear  was 
so  scarce  that  half  the  time  their  bare  feet  were  on 
the  ground.  What  with  the  sharp,  coarse  gravel 
of  the  paths  this  was  no  joke. 


98  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

They  were  always  most  obliging  and  would 
move  heavy  cases  for  me,  open  boxes,  or  do  any- 
thing else  I  might  want  done.  Occasionally  I 
would  give  them  a  few  cigarettes,  for  which  they 
seemed  most  grateful.  The  Serbian  soldiers  did 
not  mingle  with  them,  but  I  never  heard  any  rough 
words  addressed  to  them  nor  saw  them  treated 
otherwise  than  kindly. 

In  the  hospitals,  of  course,  sick  or  wounded 
prisoners  were  given  the  same  consideration  as 
the  Serbs  themselves.  I  saw  one  man  lying  at  the 
inside  end  of  the  ward  one  day  and  apparently  suf- 
fering greatly  from  the  close  heat  of  the  place  and 
a  Serb,  who  was  being  carried  in  from  the  baths, 
had  his  carriers  put  him  into  that  bed,  giving  up 
his  own  place  by  the  window  to  the  Austrian. 

The  prisoners  lived  in  barracks  at  the  edge  of 
the  town  and  were  employed  only  for  government 
work,  but  after  Prince  Alexis  arrived  one  or  two 
were  allowed,  as  a  reward  for  good  conduct,  to 
enter  his  personal  service.  This  was  very  conve- 
nient, as  few  Serbs  will  take  a  menial  position  and 
servants  are  very  difficult  to  get.  The  Prince  was 


AUSTRIAN  PRISONERS  99 

lucky  in  finding  a  tall,  handsome  fellow,  who  had 
been  an  upper  waiter  in  one  of  the  best  London 
hotels,  and  who  made  an  excellent  butler.  With 
the  chauffeur's  wife  and  the  lady's  maid  he  did 
most  of  the  house  work,  while  the  chef  and  Basil 
took  care  of  the  kitchen  and  the  servants'  quar- 
ters, which  formed  a  separate  building  near  the 
house. 

The  original  dining  room  of  the  Villa  was  also 
an  independent  building,  about  sixty  feet  long  by 
eighteen  feet  wide.  This  we  used  as  our  store- 
room. Along  one  side  I  ranged  packing  cases, 
one  on  the  other  to  the  height  of  nine  feet,  and 
thus  formed  a  series  of  very  convenient  cupboards 
in  which  I  could  keep  the  various  kinds  of  stores, 
well  sorted,  and  within  easy  reach.  In  an  alcove  at 
the  end  of  the  room,  under  a  great  window  which 
opened  on  a  terrace  planted  with  fragrant  stand- 
ard roses,  Prince  Alexis  had  his  desk,  and  here  he 
and  Captain  Georgevitch  worked  faithfully  day 
after  day. 

Among  other  things  sent  us  from  England,  were 
thousands  of  pairs  of  knitted  woolen  wristlets  that 


100  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

had  been  made  for  the  Indian  troops,  who  were 
transferred  from  the  Western  front  to  Eg}rpt  be- 
fore these  comforts  were  ready.  As  the  Serbian 
soldiers  needed  socks  more  than  wristlets,  we  rav- 
eled them  out  and  had  the  wool  reknitted  by  Ser- 
bian ladies  who  volunteered  for  the  work.  We  also 
had  several  thousand  yards  of  flannel  and  a  simi- 
lar quantity  of  heavy  cotton  material  which  they 
made  up  into  shirts.  Even  then  we  could  not  give 
Ihe  men  a  change  of  anything  as  there  were  not 
enough  garments  for  all  of  them  to  be  fully  clad 
once. 

In  the  center  of  the  long  store-room  was 
a  row  of  stout  tables  for  the  workers,  and  all  along 
the  opposite  side  and  down  one  end  of  the 
room  were  heaps  of  army  blankets,  cases  of  drugs, 
instruments,  tinned  milks,  foods  for  invalids,  and 
great,  gray-painted  chests  of  Red  Cross  supplies. 

One  day  we  received  a  large  box  with  a  black 
edged  card  tacked  on  it.  Within  were  quantities  of 
dainty  baby  clothes.  These  were  soon  sorted  into 
sets  and  supplied  to  several  poor,  young  mothers, 
widows  of  Serbian  officers.  These  were  the  hard- 


AUSTRIAN  PRISONERS  101 

est  of  all  to  help,  for  they  concealed  their  poverty 
so  proudly  that  it  took  infinite  tact  to  get  them 
to  accept  anything  at  all. 

Shortly  after  this  Sir  Thomas  Lipton  came 
to  call  on  Prince  Alexis.  He  was  much  impressed 
by  our  work  and  said  that  our  store-room  was 
the  best  organized  and  best  arranged  he  had  seen 
out  there.  I  was  much  pleased,  as  he  had  seen 
them  all,  but,  being  an  Irishman,  it  is  probable  the 
"Blarney"  entered  into  his  commendations. 

In  spite  of  the  scarcity  of  many  things — sugar 
being  often  unobtainable,  and  candles  costing 
sometimes  two  francs  each — we  got  on  fairly  com- 
fortably, and  came  to  realize  how  easily  one  can 
do  without  things  that  have  heretofore  been  con- 
sidered indispensable. 

We  all  felt  so  remarkably  well  and  strong  that 
we  began  to  look  around  for  the  probable  cause. 
We  thought  we  found  it  in  the  excellent  water 
which  was  brought  from  the  fountains  and  of 
which  we  drank  large  quantities,  it  being  our  only 
beverage.  Wherever  the  Turk  has  been  you  will 
find  fine  wells  since  owing  to  his  religion,  which  for- 


102  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

bids  wine  or  spirits,  he  will  dig  to  any  depth  to 
gain  an  unfailing  supply  of  pure  water.  For 
many  who,  like  myself,  will  be  unwilling  in  the 
future  to  patronize  the  German  and  Austrian 
"cure"  places,  I  can  strongly  recommend  Vryny- 
atchka  Banya  ("The  Baths  of  Vrgntze"). 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  RETURN 

WHEN  the  typhus  epidemic  was  at  its  height 
very  early  in  1915,  the  proportion  of  deaths 
among  those  attacked  was  over  eighty  per  cent. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  population  was  dying. 
When  a  stranger  in  a  town  fell  ill  his  one  desire 
was  to  return  to  his  home,  and  no  matter  how  far 
away  he  might  be,  he  immediately  set  out  on  his 
journey.  Of  course  he  spread  the  infection  right 
and  left,  so  that  the  disease  seemed  to  fly  on  wings 
among  the  simple  and  highly  gregarious  people. 

When  we  found  out  a  method  of  segregating  the 
awful  malady  in  our  district,  the  improvement  was 
immediate  and  within  a  very  short  time  the  mor- 
tality was  reduced  from  eighty  to  twenty  per 
cent.  Each  suspected  case  was  placed  in  a  special 
receiving  room,  where  he  was  shaved  from  head  to 
foot,  even  the  eyebrows  being  removed.  He  was 
103 


104  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

then  bathed  with  paraffine  or  some  such  insecti- 
cide and  placed  in  an  observation  ward.  The 
vermin,  which  was  the  principal  cause  of  the 
spread  of  the  disease,  now  being  eliminated, 
it  was  comparatively  easy  not  only  to  cure 
the  patient  but  to  prevent  any  further  spread 
of  infection. 

Many  nurses  and  doctors  died  before  the  in- 
vention of  a  special  costume  which  rendered  them 
immune.  This  consisted  of  a  long  tunic  girdled 
closely ;  a  pair  of  "Turkish"  trousers  bound  tightly 
round  the  ankles ;  the  head  covered  by  a  cap  which 
completely  concealed  the  neck;  rubber  gloves  on 
the  hands ;  the  face  and  the  insteps  above  the  shoes 
were  smeared  with  some  ointment  to  repel  the  at- 
tacks of  vermin.  From  the  first  week  that  these 
precautions  were  adopted,  not  a  nurse  or  doctor 
who  strictly  observed  them,  was  attacked.  By  dint 
of  hard  work,  and  rigorous  attention  to  the  many 
necessary  details  of  sanitation,  by  mid-summer, 
1915,  the  typhus  epidemic  had  been  practically 
stamped  out. 


THE  RETURN  105 

Then  we  found  that,  for  some  unknown  cause, 
our  supplies  were  falling  off  in  quantity,  besides 
arriving  with  great  irregularity,  so  I  was  sent 
back  to  England  to  see  what  could  be  done  to 
insure  a  steady  and  unfailing  flow. 

As  the  train  service  was  extremely  poor,  the 
Prince  offered  to  take  me  over  to  Stalac  where  I 
could  get  a  fairly  good  train  to  Nish.  The  Prin- 
cess also  decided  to  accompany  me  on  this  first 
stage  of  my  journey  and  we  started  at  four 
o'clock  in  a  cool,  gray  dawn.  The  mist  clung 
round  the  hill  tops  and  a  damp  wind  blew  in  our 
faces. 

At  Stalac  we  had  a  long  wait,  as  the  train 
was  very  late,  but  at  last  I  was  helped  up  the 
high  steps  of  an  incongruously  luxurious  rail- 
way car  and,  with  kindly  farewells,  sent  on  my 
journey.  As  my  command  of  the  Serbian 
language  extends  only  to  a  very  limited  number 
of  words,  Ilyia  was  sent  with  me  to  interpret 
and  to  look  after  me  generally.  I  was  to  do 
many  commissions,  both  in  Nish  and  Salon- 


106  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

ika,  for  their  Highnesses,  and  Ilyia  was  to  be  also 
my  messenger  and  burden  bearer. 

At  Nish  I  was  met  by  a  Professor  Derocco, 
resident  there,  who  had  received  a  telegram  from 
Prince  Alexis  to  aid  me  as  much  as  possible.  By 
this  time  the  rain  was  coming  down  in  streams  and 
we  took  a  carriage,  (which  I  am  firmly  convinced 
was  the  original  One  Hoss  Shay),  and  started  out 
to  seek  Banks  and  Consulates  wherein  my  business 
lay.  As  I  was  to  pass  through  Greece,  Italy  and 
France  to  England,  it  was  necessary  to  have  my 
passports  viseed  by  the  Consuls  representing  those 
countries.  The  offices  were  full  of  people  who  also 
had  important  business  to  transact,  and  I  had 
several  long  waits.  However,  as  all  things  come 
to  an  end,  at  last  I  was  free  to  seek  food  and  rest, 
my  mission  accomplished. 

Professor  Derocco  had  found  a  place  which  he 
assured  me  I  would  prefer  to  the  hotels,  as  these 
latter  were  all  so  uncomfortably  crowded,  and  he 
took  me  to  a  large  private  house  away  from  the 
center  of  the  town.  We  entered  through  a  gate 
in  a  hiffh  stuccoed  wall  and  found  ourselves  on  a 


.THE  RETURN  107 

flagged  path  in  a  rain-drenched  garden.  Around 
the  corner  of  the  house  we  went  up  a  short  flight 
of  steps  and  knocked  at  a  glass  paneled  door. 
It  instantly  was  opened  by  a  quaint  and  charming 
old  lady  whose  absolute  replica  hovered  in  the 
background.  The  large  hall  was  lined  with  big 
wooden  coffers  and  presses.  Through  the  cur- 
tained doors  of  these  furnishings  I  saw  piles  of 
the  heavy  hand-woven  sheets  and  pillow  cases, 
embroidered  bed  covers,  and  other  linens  that 
are  the  pride  of  a  Serbian  household.  The  shelves 
of  another  revealed  row  upon  row  of  glass  jars  of 
fruit  and  syrups  of  which  the  people  are  very 
fond. 

I  was  ushered  into  a  pleasant  room  with  great 
shuttered  windows  opening  on  the  street.  The 
walls  of  the  room  were  ornamented  with  bright- 
hued  native  tapestries  and  the  table  cover  was  a 
brilliant  specimen  of  hand-woven  silk  and  linen 
threads  finely  embroidered.  Coffee  was  brought 
in  on  a  beautifully  carved  tray  and  that  invari- 
able adjunct  to  Serbian  hospitality,  a  large  carafe 
of  sparkling  cold  water.  I  was  told  that  this  was 


108  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

the  apartment  used  by  Prince  Paul,  a  nephew  of 
the  King,  on  his  visits  to  Nish. 

Professor  Derocco  left  me  to  rest  and  went 
out  to  attend  to  some  business  for  me,  as 
the  rain  made  it  extremely  disagreeable  to  get 
about  the  awful  streets,  and  he  was  determined 
to  save  me  all  the  effort  possible. 

At  four  o'clock  he  returned  and,  bidding  my  kind 
hostesses  adieu,  we  drove  over  the  yawning  gaps  in 
the  rough  cobble  stones  to  the  station.  On  the 
way  I  saw  little  groups  of  thin,  ragged  people 
crouching  in  the  doorways,  spattered  by  the  pelt- 
ing rain  and  by  the  mud  from  the  wheels  of  our 
rickety,  furiously-bounding  cab.  These,  I  was  in- 
formed, were  refugees  from  the  North  and  East 
whose  villages  had  been  devastated  by  the  Aus- 
trians  and  Bulgarians.  Hungry,  wet,  uncom- 
plaining, the}-  sat  there  believing  that  soon  all 
would  be  well  and  they  would  be  able  to  return, 
rebuild  their  homes  and  begin  again  to  culti- 
vate their  little  farms  in  peace  and  security. 

At  the  station  we  found  a  fairly  dry  table  in 
the  cafe  on  the  platform  and  here  we  dined  on 


THE  RETURN  109 

cabbage  soup,  coarse  brown  bread,  goat's  cheese, 
dry  prunes  and  beer.  Ilyia  appeared  when  it  was 
time  to  entrain.  As  Professor  Derocco  had  ar- 
ranged to  pay  a  visit  to  his  young  daughter,  who 
was  living  with  his  aunt  at  Uskub,  he  accom- 
panied me.  For  hours  in  the  train  we  talked  of 
Serbia  and  her  prospects.  The  Professor,  who 
is  one  of  the  government's  cartographers,  pro- 
duced one  of  his  maps  and  I  learned  far  more  of 
Serbian  geography  than  I  had  ever  known  before. 
So  engrossed  in  this  study  was  I  that  if  was 
after  midnight  before  I  remembered  the  full  day  I 
had  had  and  my  need  of  sleep. 

My  escort  bade  me  goodnight  and  sent  the 
porter  to  make  my  bed,  and  I  was  soon  in  a  log- 
like  slumber.  This  would  have  lasted,  I  feel  sure, 
well  into  the  next  afternoon,  had  I  not  been  sud- 
denly roused  by  a  loud  and  persistent  rapping  on 
the  door.  When  I  opened  it  there  stood  Professor 
Derocco,  looking  irritatingly  fresh  and  immacu- 
late, bidding  me  good-by  and  begging  me  to  let 
him  know  if  he  could  serve  me  in  any  way  either 
then  or  in  the  future.  I  did  appreciate  his  kind- 


110  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

ness  but,  oh,  how  I  regretted  my  interrupted 
sleep. 

Arriving  at  Ghevghelia  I  was  entertained 
by  the  officials  who  provided  a  light  repast 
with  a  graceful  and  kindly  hospitality  that  made 
it  as  acceptable  as  a  banquet.  Then  again,  the 
dull,  swampy  plains  of  Macedonia  and,  just 
as  dusk  began  to  deepen,  Salonika. 

A  telegram  had  been  sent  to  the  Olympos  Palace 
Hotel,  but  the  courier  who  met  me  said  that  every 
room  was  taken  and  people  were  even  sleeping 
in  the  reception  rooms,  while  the  writing-room  had 
been  turned  into  a  dormitory  for  officers.  How- 
ever, he  said  he  would  take  care  of  me  or  die  in 
the  attempt.  So,  with  gigantic  Ilyia  on  the  box 
and  the  courier  leaning  out  the  door  of  the  cab 
and  shouting  to  clear  the  way,  we  rattled  over 
the  stones  and  around  the  corners  until  we  pulled 
up  before  the  Hotel  d'Amerique. 

The  old  reception  clerk  showed  me  into  a  large 
room  with  three  great  four-post  beds,  all  made 
up  and  with  mosquito  curtains  snugly  tucked  in. 
I  asked  how  much  lie  wanted  for  it,  and  with  an 


/THE  RETURN  111 

air  of  great  surprise,  he  inquired  if  I  meant  "all  of 
it."  I  said  I  certainly  did,  and  he  mumbled  that 
the  place  was  crowded  and  it  would  be  very  ex- 
pensive. After  a  good  deal  of  grumbling  and  sly 
calculation  he  assured  me  he  could  not  let  me  have 
it  under  eight  francs !  I  sent  him  for  as  much 
water  as  he  could  bring  me — about  four  pails  full 
— had  a  good  refreshing  wash  and  slept. 

The  next  day  was  a  busy  one,  and  though  my 
boat  did  not  sail  until  midnight,  there  was  none 
too  much  time.  Ilyia  was  invaluable,  and  I  kept 
him  going  from  early  morning  until  I  bade  him 
good-by  at  the  dock.  When  I  tried  to  give  him 
a  gold  piece  for  good  luck  he  refused  it,  saying  he 
was  honored  in  serving  me  since  I  was  a  friend  of 
his  country.  I  was  deeply  touched  and  we  shook 
hands.  I  got  to  bed  at  twelve  o'clock  and  stayed 
there  until  noon  the  next  day. 


CHAPTER  XII 
DOING  MY  BIT  IN  ENGLAND  AND  AMERICA 

THE  journey  to  Naples  was  uneventful.  There 
were  some  interesting  people  on  board,  mostly 
Italian  Reservists  returning  to  join  their  regi- 
ments. Among  them  was  an  "air-man,"  who  had 
been  training  Bulgarian  aviators  (how  he  must 
regret  it  now).  There  was  also  an  Italian  editor 
from  Constantinople  and  two  Roman  ladies,  sis- 
ters, returning  from  Jerusalem.  On  this  boat  I 
made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Francis  Markoe, 
who  had  been  working  with  Lady  Paget's  unit  in 
Serbia  all  through  the  typhms  epidemic  and  who 
is  now  a  member  of  the  Serbian  Relief  Committee 
of  America  and  still  working  faithfully  for 
Serbia. 

We  went  overland  from  Naples  to  Paris  and 
when,  passing  along  the  Riviera,  I  saw  men  and 
women  beautifully  dressed,  care-free,  over-fed,  I 
wondered  which  was  the  dream, — the  suffering, 
hungry,  ragged,  courageous  and  devoted  people 


DOING  MY  BIT  113 

I  had  just  left,  or  this  frivolous,  perfumed,  laugh- 
ing crowd  of  pleasure  seekers.  The  contrast  was 
astounding. 

On  my  arrival  in  London,  I  found  the  Serbian 
Relief  Fund  was  packing  and  sending  out  large 
cases  every  week.  Mrs.  Carrington  Wilde  told 
me  the  organization  was  receiving  splendid 
response  to  its  appeals,  and  after  I  had  seen  the 
fine  corps  of  volunteer  workers  packing  and  label- 
ing the  bales  of  clothing  and  the  great  boxes  of 
other  much  needed  supplies,  I  felt  happier. 

Soon  after  my  return,  Captain  Georgevitch  ar- 
rived with  a  collection  of  war  trophies  consisting 
of  Austrian  war  rifles,  knapsacks,  shells,  hand 
grenades,  swords,  drums  and  many  other  interest- 
ing trophies  collected  on  Serbian  battlefields. 
These  he  placed  on  exhibition  in  some  of  the  large 
stores  in  London  and  in  other  towns  as  well.  Win- 
chester among  them,  where  I  was  able  to  arrange 
for  a  show  of  them  at  the  Guild  Hall.  We  charged 
a  small  admission  fee  and  afterwards  auctioned  off 
the  things.  The  affair  was  a  great  success  and 
we  made  a  good  sum  to  be  sent  back  to 


114  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Serbia  in  the  form  of  drugs  and  other  necessaries. 

In  October,  having  finished  my  work  in  Eng- 
land, I  wished  to  get  my  passports  to  return  to 
Serbia,  but  the  situation  was  by  this  time  so  grave, 
owing  to  the  strong  Austrian  offensive  before  Bel- 
grade, that  the  American  Ambassador  refused  to 
let  me  go  It  was  not  long  before  we  heard  the 
terrible  news  of  the  steady  advance  of  the  enemy 
forces,  the  capture  of  Kraguevatz  and  then  the 
retreat  of  the  Serbian  army — fighting  every 
inch  of  the  way — and  the  awful  tragedy  of  the 
evacuation. 

I  thought  of  my  many  friends  in  Belgrade,  of 
the  invalids,  the  maimed  and  the  old  who  had  to  be 
left  behind,  and  my  heart  was  torn  with  fear  and 
sorrow  over  their  inevitable  doom. 

I  knew  that  none  but  the  very  strongest  could 
survive,  that  the  weak  and  the  ill  would  die  of 
privation  and  that  a  deliberate  policy  of  exter- 
mination would  be  carried  on  by  the  invaders.  We 
know  now  that  one-quarter  of  the  population  has 
already  been  destroyed  and  we  fear  that  this  is  a 
too-conservative  estimate. 


DOING  MY  BIT  115 

Unless  this  war  ends  favorably  for  us,  Serbia 
will  be  but  a  memory  and  her  brave  and  splendid 
people  will  die  out,  butchered  by  the  cruelest  and 
most  vindictive  enemy  the  world  has  ever  known. 
Serbia  who  held  the  gates  on  the  East,  as  Belgium 
did  on  the  West  until  the  armies  of  England  and 
France  could  take  their  stand;  Serbia  who,  like 
Belgium,  has  been  crucified  and  to-day  is  gasping 
out  her  life  under  the  tortures  of  our  enemies ! 

After  taking  part  in  the  dreadful  retreat  over 
the  Albanian  mountains,  Princess  Alexis  wrote 
me  imploring  my  help.  She  and  the  Prince  had 
started  with  their  household  in  the  automobile  and 
the  ambulance,  she  said,  but  on  reaching  the 
mountains  had  to  abandon  these  vehicles. 

The  Princess  wrote:  "We  burned  them  so  that 
they  should  not  benefit  the  enemy."  She  and  her 
husband  had  passed  through  the  awful  ordeal,  suf- 
fering from  cold  and  hunger  as  did  the  poorest 
peasant  in  that  fearful  march,  and  those  who 
saw  her  say  she  worthily  upheld  the  reputation  of 
our  American  women  for  courage  and  endurance. 

After  her  arrival  in  Rome,  she  wrote  a  restrained 


116  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

and  unsensational  account  of  the  horrible  journey 
which  was  published  in  the  New  York  papers.  In 
it  she  nowhere  speaks  of  her  own  personal  mis- 
eries, but  I  have  testimony  of  eye  witnesses  that 
she  and  Prince  Alexis  endured  cheerfully  with  the 
others  all  the  suffering  and  hardships. 

After  receiving  her  letter,  I  came  home  to 
America,  knowing  that  if  I  could  only  tell  the 
people  of  the  terrible  need  of  Serbia  their  generous 
hearts  would  prompt  them  to  give.  Nor  was  I 
mistaken.  I  myself  joined  the  Serbian  Relief 
Committee  of  America  and  undertook  to  deliver  a 
series  of  lectures  on  Serbia.  In  that  way  I  soon 
raised  a  substantial  sum  for  relief  work  among 
the  refugees  on  the  Island  of  Corsica. 

My  object  was  to  get  as  much  help  as  possible 
to  the  destitute  people,  with  the  utmost  speed, 
since  every  hour  and  every  day  counted  tragically 
against  them  in  suffering  and  death. 

So  as  the  Serbian  Relief  Committee  of  America 
had  at  that  time  no  suitable  organization  in  the 
Balkans  with  which  to  administer  relief  to  the 
refugees,  I  requested  them  to  allow  all  funds 


DOING  MY  BIT  117 

which  might  be  raised  at  joint  meetings  by  Miss 
Burke,  an  Englishwoman  who  had  now  joined 
me,  and  myself  to  be  turned  over  to  the  Scottish 
Womens'  Hospitals  (whose  representative  Miss 
Burke  was).  They  had  a  relief  station  already 
established  on  Corsica  and  could  give  help  without 
delay.  As  we  cabled  the  amount  in  hand,  the 
Scottish  Women's  Hospitals  would  draw  upon 
their  own  funds  pending  the  arrival  of  our 
money  to  replace  the  sums. 

The  most  successful  meeting  held  during  the  two 
months  that  we  worked  together  took  place  at 
the  Breakers  at  Palm  Beach,  and  at  this  one  meet- 
ing we  raised  enough  money  to  establish  a  tent 
hospital  of  two  hundred  beds  on  Corsica  which 
was  to  be  known  as  "The  American  Unit  of  the 
Scottish  Womens'  Hospital." 

This  meeting  was  held  under  the  patronage  of 
some  of  the  most  prominent  citizens  from  all  over 
America,  and  our  two  most  generous  subscribers 
were  Mrs.  Alexander  Hamilton  Rice  and  A. 
Kingsley  Macomber,  Esq.  In  consequence  of  our 
arrangement  with  the  Scottish  Womens'  Hospital, 


118  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

hundreds  of  lives  were  saved  which  otherwise 
would  have  been  lost  for  lack  of  immediate  aid. 

Since  then  we  have  been  able  to  send  really  good 
sums  to  carry  on  the  work  of  feeding,  clothing  and 
restoring  to  health  those  destitute  and  unhappy 
people.  The  Serbian  Relief  Committee  was  so 
fortunate  as  to  interest  Dr.  Edward  Ryan  of  the 
American  Red  Cross  in  its  work,  and  the  last  train 
loads  of  food  sent  into  Serbia  from  Roumania  by 
him  were  largely  contributed  to  from  our  fund. 

America  was  neutral  then,  the  greatest  and  the 
richest  country  in  the  world.  Her  people  pro- 
vided with  every  comfort,  every  luxury.  She  was 
so  fat  and  well  fed  it  was  difficult  to  realize  that 
actual  starvation  stalked  throughout  so  many 
unhappy  cities  in  Europe.  America  did  not  real- 
ize that  this  war  so  intimately  concerned  her  and 
that  she  would  inevitably  be  drawn  in.  For  a  time 
there  seemed  to  be  something  of  the  spirit  which 
prompted  the  man  of  old  to  say,  "Am  I  my  broth- 
er's keeper,"  and  to  us,  who  had  seen  the  trend 
of  events,  it  was  tragic  that  our  country  should 
be  so  blind. 


CHAPTER  XIH 

THROUGH  THE  WAR  ZONE 

IN  August,  1916,  we  of  the  Serbian  Relief  Com- 
mittee began  to  feel  a  touch  of  impatience  in  let- 
ters from  our  American  Consuls  at  Athens  and 
Salonika  and,  as  personal  business  called  me  to 
England,  I  offered  to  extend  my  journey  to  the 
near  East  to  see  what  could  have  happened. 

We  were  now  a  world  at  war,  and  sea  travel 
having  become  more  and  more  dangerous,  I  had 
been  warned  that  it  was  most  difficult  to  get  per- 
mission to  cross,  but  owing  to  the  good  offices  of 
Mr.  Arthur  Lee  and  Mr.  John  Barrett,  both  of 
Washington,  I  was  soon  supplied  with  a  passport 
and  with  a  letter  from  the  Secretary  of  State, 
recommending  me  to  the  courtesies  of  the  Ameri- 
can Ambassadors,  Ministers  and  Consuls  in  the 
allied  and  neutral  countries  through  which  I  must 

pass. 

119 


120  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

It  was  the  third  week  in  August  when  I  sailed. 
There  were  no  trippers,  no  gamblers,  no  "little 
actresses"  and  few  New  York  dressmakers  or  mil- 
liners on  board.  Everyone  was  going  on  serious 
business,  mostly  connected  with  the  war,  which 
was  nearly  the  sole  topic  of  conversation.  Many 
people  then,  as  they  are  today,  were  perfectly 
certain  that  — "Germany  cannot  last  out  another 
six  months."  There  were  several  alarms  of  sub- 
marines and  one  man  Avas  so  depressed  by  the 
sense  of  danger  that  he  jumped  overboard  and  was 
lost. 

On  our  arrival  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mersey, 
we  found  ourselves  enveloped  in  a  dense  fog  and 
were  obliged  to  wait  several  hours  before  we  could 
go  up  to  Liverpool.  Just  behind  us,  when  we  at 
last  did  berth,  was  a  large  ship  filled  with  Ger- 
man prisoners  that  had  arrived  that  day  from  the 
Cameroons.  They  lined  the  rail  and  stared  at  us 
curiously,  and  when  two  other  New  York  women 
and  I  passed  near  them,  one  of  the  younger  ones 
shouted  something  about  "Amerikanerin"  and 
spat  viciously  in  our  direction.  I  saw  an  English 


L THROUGH  THE  WAR  ZONE         121 

sailor  grab  him  by  the  collar  and  there  was  trouble 
for  a  few  minutes. 

Arriving  at  the  Carlton  Hotel  in  London,  I  was 
informed  that  I  must  report  as  an  "alien"  at  the 
nearest  police  station  within  twenty-four  hours. 
So  the  next  morning  I  went  to  Vine  Street,  and 
had  a  pleasant  interview  with  a  nice  old  police 
sergeant,  who  said  I  must  let  him  know  the  day 
before  I  wished  to  leave  London. 

As  soon  as  he  had  given  me  my  papers,  I 
began  to  inquire  about  permission  to  go  to 
France.  The  French  authorities  were  very  strict 
about  allowing  civilians  to  enter  the  country  and 
the  English  were  nearly  as  obdurate  about  let- 
ting them  out  of  England.  But  on  appealing  to 
Colonel  Walker,  at  the  Home  Office,  my  way  was 
made  smooth  by  a  letter  from  him  to  the  officer 
in  command  at  the  French  Consulate-General. 

As  there  had  been  submarines  in  the  English 
Channel  lately,  the  boats  often  did  not  sail  for 
several  days  together  and  when  they  did  go,  of 
course,  they  were  very  crowded.  Armed  with  my 
passports,  credentials,  letters  and  a  stack  of  pho- 


122  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

tographs,  I  went  to  the  Consulate  very  early  in 
the  day  and  obtained,  with  little  delay,  a  French 
passport,  which  was  warranted  to  get  me  into 
France  but  not  to  get  me  out.  Then  back  to  Vine 
Street  to  tell  the  Man  in  Blue  of  my  intention  to 
leave. 

As  a  former  employee  of  mine  was  lying 
wounded  in  a  Red  Cross  hospital  at  Southampton, 
I  applied  for  an  "identity  card"  to  enable  me  to 
visit  him,  but  the  old  sergeant  said,  "Oh,  you  won't 
need  that  as  you  are  to  sail  from  Southampton. 
Just  report  at  the  police  station  when  you  get 
there  and  they  won't  'urt  you." 

When  I  saw  poor  Mursell,  my  faithful  gardener 
of  happier  days,  on  crutches  and  heard  that  he 
had  been  wounded  in  the  legs,  he  seemed  to  think 
that  I  ought  to  have  an  explanation.  As  he  is 
only  five  feet  four  inches  in  height  he  was,  for  a 
time,  ineligible  for  military  service,  but  after  a 
while  "Bantam  Regiments"  were  formed  and  he 
was  among  the  first  to  join  and  was  the  tallest 
man  in  his  regiment ! 

"Yes,    madam,"    he    said,    "I    caught    a    shell- 


Bringing  in  sick  civilians  at  Vrynatchka   Banya 


Prince    (k-orgc    of    Serbia,    Admiral    Troub  ridge    and     the 
author 


THROUGH  THE  WAR  ZONE         123 

splinter  in  my  legs.  Why  a  man  six  foot  four 
could  have  been  wounded  there."  He  was  quite 
cheerful  and  happy,  in  spite  of  the  pain  which 
he  was  suffering,  to  have  "done  his  bit"  in  the 
great  war. 

On  my  way  to  dinner  in  the  town,  I  remembered 
that  my  presence  at  the  police  station  was  re- 
quired, so  I  went  there.  The  sergeant  on  duty 
asked  my  business. 

"I'm  an  alien  and  am  here  without  an  identity 
card,"  I  said.  "Are  you  going  to  arrest  me?" 

"What  for,  madam?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  I  just  thought  you  might  want  to,"  I  re- 
plied. 

"Wouldn't  think  of  such  a  thing.  And  I  didn't 
know  you  was  a  h'alien,  madam."  This  cour- 
teously. 

I  looked  surprised  and  he  laughed  and  said 
he  remembered  often  having  seen  my  husband 
drive  with  me  down  the  High  Street  when  we  lived 
near  Southampton  and  he  'ad  h'always  supposed 
that  I  was  H'english  though  he  knew  that  Mr. 
Farnam  was  a  H'american. 


124  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  following  night  I  went 
on  board  the  crowded  Channel  steamer,  but  we  did 
not  leave  the  dock  until  six  o'clock,  broad  day- 
light, and  then  simply  scooted  across.  The  cross- 
ing was  really  dangerous  and  every  one  of  the 
several  hundred  passengers  kept  as  sharp  a  look- 
out as  if  he  were  personally  responsible  for  the 
safety  of  the  ship.  However,  we  landed  at  Le 
Havre  unharmed,  and  after  endless  formalities 
were  allowed  to  proceed  to  Paris.  Such  a  long 
journey!  We  seemed  to  stop  at  every  barn  and 
cottage  on  the  route  and  arrived  at  dead  of  night, 
as  hungry  and  cross  as  if  our  troubles  and  dis- 
comforts were  all  important. 

But  just  as  we  finished  the  short  examination 
at  the  station  gates,  a  train-load  of  wounded 
French  soldiers  came  in  and  the  first  men  were 
carried  past  us  on  their  stretchers  to  the  waiting 
ambulances.  We  stood  ashamed  of  our  peevish- 
ness when  we  saw  the  glowing  eyes  shining  in  the 
dim  light  and  heard  the  feeble  voices  shout  "Vive 
la  France." 

The  men   about  me   took  off  their  hats   and 


THROUGH  THE  WAR  ZONE         125 

the  Grossest,  most  cantankerous  woman  of  us 
all,  who  had  made  tha  journey  even  more 
uncomfortable  than  need  be  by  her  constant 
grumbling,  ran  forward  weeping  and  tried  to  kiss 
one  pathetic  lad  whose  blanket  lay  hideously  flat 
where  his  legs  should  have  been. 

The  streets  of  Paris  were  dark  and  the  chauf- 
feurs seemed  to  drive  more  recklessly  than  ever. 
I  was  glad  to  reach  my  hotel  and  find  a  cool,  clean 
bed  ready  for  me. 

My  first  visit  was  to  Dr.  Milenko  Vesnitch, 
Serbian  Minister  to  France.  We  had  an  hour  of 
discussion  on  the  situation  in  Serbia  and  as  to 
what  was  advisable  for  the  Serbian  Relief  Com- 
mittee of  America  to  concentrate  on  in  future. 
He  said  that  the  needs  of  the  population  still  in 
Serbia  were  most  piteous  and  urgent,  also 
that  we  should  form  a  fund  to  supply  seeds  and 
farming  implements  to  help  to  restore  the  people 
when  the  war  is  over.  He  also  suggested  that 
America  should  take  up  the  hospital  and  medical 
work  among  the  Serbian  troops  as  this  was  sadly 
needed. 


126  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Dr.  Vesnitch  thought  it  unnecessary  for  me 
to  go  to  Corfu  as  Miss  Helen  Losanitch  was 
already  on  the  spot  and  could  report  on  condi- 
tions there  and  Corsica.  But  he  said  I  should 
go  to  Salonika  and  talk  with  Serbs  there  to  get 
a  full  idea  of  what  was  required.  Also,  he  thought 
it  advisable  for  me  to  go  to  Geneva  and  see  M. 
Navelle  who  represents  Serbian  Relief  there. 

The  French  authorities  were  most  kind  and 
gave  me  the  necessary  papers  to  leave  Paris  with- 
out delay.  At  eight  o'clock  my  train,  packed 
with  convalescent  soldiers,  who  would  never  be 
able  to  fight  again,  on  their  way  to  their  homes 
and  many  pale,  emaciated  civilians  who  were  seek- 
ing health  among  the  Swiss  mountains,  pulled  out 
for  the  frontier. 

In  my  compartment  there  was  a  young  girl, 
clinging  frantically  to  a  tall  handsome  Serb- 
ian officer  who,  when  the  train  was  about  to 
start,  placed  her,  fainting,  in  my  arms  and 
begged  me  in  a  broken  voice  to  take  care  of  her. 
Later  I  learned  that  she  had  been  a  governess  in 
a  well-to-do  family  in  Belgrade  and  had  fled  before 


THROUGH  THE  WAR  ZONE          127 

the  enemy,  with  her  employers.  The  officer  was 
her  fiance  whom  she  had  met  again  unexpectedly 
at  Corfu,  and  who  had  been  sent  to  Paris  with 
important  papers,  and  was  thus  able  to  take  care 
of  her  on  her  long  journey. 

The  poor  girl  was  very  ill  as  the  result 
of  the  hardships  she  had  undergone  and  passed 
from  one  fainting  fit  into  another  until  I  was 
nearly  distracted.  However,  on  reaching  the 
Swiss  border  I  found  a  party  of  English  nurses 
who  said  they  would  take  charge  of  her,  as  they 
were  remaining  there  for  some  days  and  she  was 
clearly  not  fit  to  go  on.  We  sent  a  telegram  to 
her  father  who,  I  heard  afterward,  came  and  took 
her  home. 

On  my  arrival  in  Geneva  I  went  to  the  Ameri- 
can Consulate  for  information  as  to  what  must 
be  done  before  attempting  to  enter  Italy.  The 
Consul-General  told  me  that  it  would  be  necessary 
for  me  to  see  the  Italian  Minister  in  Berne,  and 
it  would  be  at  least  ten  days  before  I  would 
be  allowed  to  go,  if  at  all,  since  instructions  re- 


128  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

garding  me  must  come  from  Rome.  This  was  a 
blow. 

As  soon  as  M.  Navelle's  office  was  open,  I  went 
to  him.  He  reported  that  Dr.  Ryan,  of  the  Ameri- 
can Red  Cross,  who  was,  or  lately  had  been,  in 
Vienna,  was  hopeful  over  the  condition  of  the 
country  but  we  feared,  on  reading  more  recent 
statements  of  other  observers,  that  possibly  the 
Doctor  was  unduly  optimistic.  Since  then  these 
fears  have  been  tragically  realized. 

The  reports  as  to  the  conditions  of  the  Serbian 
prisoners  in  Austrian  prison  camps  were  heart- 
rending and  we  agreed  that  aid  to  these  starving 
men  must  be  rushed  at  once  by  the  Swiss  Com- 
mittee. As  many  of  the  English  and  French  pris- 
oners had  so  often  said  they  could  not  have  sur- 
vived had  it  not  been  for  the  parcels  of  food  sent 
them  by  their  families  and  friends,  we  could  well 
imagine  the  awful  needs  of  these  Serbian  soldiers 
with  no  one  to  help  them,  their  country  being  com- 
pletely at  the  mercy  of  a  cruel  and  vindictive  enemy 
and  their  families  destitute  and  living  in  abject 
misery.  M.  Navclle  promised  to  send  a  full  report 


THROUGH  THE  WAR  ZONE         129 

at  once  to  our  American  Committee  so  that  no 
time  should  be  lost  and  money  and  supplies  might 
be  forwarded  to  such  an  extent  as  our  funds  would 
allow. 

At  one  o'clock  the  following  morning,  in  a  pour- 
ing rain  storm,  I  left  for  Berne.  I  arrived  at 
four-thirty  and  had  a  few  hours'  sleep  before  the 
Legations  opened. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

EASTWARD  Ho! 

OUR  Minister  to  Switzerland,  Mr.  Stovall,  was 
very  kind  but  held  out  no  hope  that  the  Italian 
Minister  would  let  me  go  into  Italy  until  he  had 
received  advices  from  Rome.  However,  he  gave 
me  a  note  to  the  Minister  and  I  took  a  cab  to  the 
Legation.  The  driver  stopped  at  an  iron  gate  in 
a  high  wall  and  as  I  entered  a  great  "police"  dog 
came  swiftly  around  the  corner  of  the  house  but 
calmed  down  when  I  spoke  to  him.  While  we 
were  making  friends,  the  Minister  appeared  in  the 
garden  and  seemed  surprised  that  the  dog  was  so 
amiable  as  he  was  usually  not  at  all  friendly  to 
strangers. 

Then  I  was  sent  over  the  Chancellerie,  which 
was  next  door,  and  was  told  to  state  my  busi- 
ness to  the  Secretary.  By  the  time  the  Minister 
came  in,  about  ten  minutes  later,  my  passport  had 

130 


EASTWARD  HO!  131 

been  examined  and  all  my  papers  were  in  order. 
He  shook  hands  and  wished  me  good  luck  and  I 
asked,  "When  may  I  hope  to  go,  Your  Excel- 
lency?" 

"Why  you  can  catch  the  12:50  if  you  make 
haste,"  he  said,  smiling.  I  fled. 

Back  to  the  hotel — ordered  my  bill  as  I  rushed 
to  the  elevator — grabbed  my  bags,  paid  my  ac- 
count on  my  way  to  a  waiting  cab,  and  hopped 
into  the  train  three  minutes  before  it  pulled  out! 

At  Iselle,  on  the  Italian  frontier,  the  examina- 
tion of  travelers  was  very  strict  and  for  some 
reason  I  was  left  to  the  last.  When  I  went  before 
the  examiners,  the  Chief,  a  dapper-looking  young 
man,  rose  and  bowed,  asked  me  a  few  questions, 
waved  my  papers  aside,  stamped  my  passport 
"Iselle"  and  "Entrata"  and  handed  it  to  n?.e  with 
another  smile  and  bow;  I  thanked  him  thinking,, 
"how  kind  everybody  is,"  and  started  out. 

But  the  man  snapped  "Nella  camerata"  and  I 
was  taken  into  a  little  room,  stripped  and  searched. 
When  I  returned  I  found  a  group  of  men  plunging 
their  hands  into  my  dressing  bag  and  suitcase  and 


132  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

turning  the  contents  upside  down.  Every  scrap  of 
paper  was  scrutinized  and  discussed  and  every 
garment  shaken  out  and  held  up  before  this  crowd 
of  men.  The  person  who  had  examined  me  was 
the  only  other  woman  in  the  place. 

A  soldier  found  a  pack  of  worn  playing  cards 
in  one  of  the  bags  and  told  me  these  were  forbid- 
den. He  said,  "I  must  destroy  them."  I  was  so 
angry  by  this  time,  I  could  hardly  contain  myself 
but  I  said  smiling,  "Do  what  you  like  with  them. 
Give  them  to  your  friends,  or  your  children,  if 
you  wish."  He  turned  very  red  and  tore  them 
in  bits. 

Into  this  heated  scene  strode  the  Chief  and  de- 
manded every  paper  I  had  with  me.  His  ques- 
tions were  searching  and  peculiarly  insulting 
while  his  manner  was  that  of  one  who  was  dealing 
with  a  particularly  vicious  criminal.  I  handed 
over  my  credentials,  my  notes,  card  case,  letters 
and  even  the  newspaper  I  had  been  reading  when 
I  left  the  train.  The  latter  he  threw  on  the  floor 
and  in  a  very  few  minutes  I  saw  that  he  had  little 
or  no  knowledge  of  English.  An  elderly  gentle- 


EASTWARD  HO!  133 

man  who  seemed  quite  ashamed  of  the  treatment 
given  me,  offered  to  read  the  various  papers, 
which  he  did  with  some  difficulty. 

Then  followed  a  long  and  very  noisy  argument. 
I  gathered  the  first  man  had  decided  the  minute 
he  saw  me  that  I  was  a  spy,  and  his  manner  made 
me  believe  that  my  ultimate  (Latin)  destination 
would  be  the  rock-hewn,  undersea  dungeons  of 
some  noisome  Italian  jail!  His  disappointment, 
when  he  found  there  could  be  no  charge  made 
against  me,  was  a  positive  pleasure  for  me  to 
witness. 

My  letters  from  the  Secretary  of  State  and 
from  the  American  Ambassador  in  London  (writ- 
ten for  an  earlier  journey  but  equally  good  on 
this  one)  were  too  much  for  him.  So  at  last  I 
was  allowed  to  go — after  he  had  flung  my  papers 
down  so  that  half  of  them  fell  on  the  floor  and  I 
had  to  pick  them  up. 

Thinking  it  wise  to  show  how  dignified  I 
could  be  under  adverse  circumstances,  I  sailed 
out  with  head  high,  smiling  but  with  a  hot, 
red  spot  on  either  cheek,  only  to  be  followed 


134  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

by  a  roar  of  laughter.  On  reaching  my  com- 
partment I  found  that  the  desired  effect  had 
been  rather  dashed  by  a  yard  or  two  «f  pink  r&>- 
bon  from  a  forgotten  bow  that  trailed  btkmd  me, 
and  had  in  some  way  become  entangled  with 
a  greasy  paper  bag  so  that  my  haughty  progress 
must  have  resembled  that  of  an  indignant  kite ! 

At  Milan  I  found  that  the  train  for  Rome 
had  been  gone  an  hour,  so,  lugging  my  bags  which 
grew  heavier  and  heavier,  I  went  out  into  the 
rainy  streets,  discovered  a  small  but  comfortable 
hotel  near  the  station,  and  had  another  all  too- 
short  night's  rest. 

At  six-twenty,  in  a  violent  downpour,  my 
train  left  for  Rome  and  there  I  was  lucky 
in  catching  the  Naples  Express.  In  the 
dining-car  my  seat  happened  to  be  opposite  that 
of  an  Italian  naval  officer  who  glared  at  me 
ferociously  all  through  dinner.  When  the  coffee 
was  served  he  could  bear  it  no  longer  and  pointing 
to  the  large  enameled  Red  Cross,  which  I  always 
wore  when  traveling  in  the  war  zone,  he  demanded, 
"What  is  that  you  are  wearing,  signora?" 


EASTWARD  HO!  135 

When  I  told  him  that  it  was  the  Royal  Order  of 
the  Serbian  Red  Cross,  he  looked  rather  flat  and 
said  that  seeing  the  two-headed  eagle  on  it  he 
could  not  think  it  anything  but  Hunnish. 

At  midnight  the  train  crawled  into  Naples  and 
my  bed  soon  claimed  me.  In  the  morning  I  had 
developed  such  a  cold  that  my  voice  had  nearly 
gone.  I  asked  when  the  next  boat  was  to  leave 
for  Athens  and  the  clerk  said  at  noon  that  day, 
but  I  would  have  to  apply  for  permission  and 
then  wait  ten  days  for  advices  from  Rome.  I 
simply  sighed  "That's  an  old  story,"  and  sought 
the  American  Consul. 

Mr.  White,  the  Consul,  was  most  sympathetic 
but  he  did  not  know  what  he  could  do  except 
to  send  his  secretary  with  me  to  the  Prefectura, 
which  he  did.  Mr.  Garguilo  first  got  my 
passport  viseed  by  the  Greek  Consul  then  took 
me  to  the  Italian  authorities.  We  found  our  man 
in  a  big  dingy  room  which  was  packed  to  suffoca- 
tion with  Greek,  Corsican  and  Sicilian  seamen  and 
I  suspected  that  they  each  and  all  lived  exclusively 
on  garlic. 


136  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Mr.  Garguilo  forced  his  way  to  the  desk 
and  talked  a  few  minutes.  The  official  looked  over 
at  me,  stamped  my  passport,  shook  hands  with 
Mr.  Garguilo  and  turned  again  to  his  seamen.  We 
got  in  Mr.  White's  car,  which  had  been  waiting, 
called  at  the  hotel  for  my  bags  and  went  on  board 
the  steamer.  Just  as  easy  as  that! 

The  boat  was  an  awful  tub  and  the  accommoda- 
tions were  most  primitive.  The  cabins  were  in 
pairs  opening,  one  on  each  side,  on  tiny  corridors 
which  ran  at  intervals  from  the  dining  salon.  In 
the  cabins  were  two  berths  on  the  inner  wall  and 
one  under  the  port  hole.  That  was  all.  Not  a 
chair  or  a  wash  basin  or  any  other  thing  but 
just  those  three  extremely  uninviting  berths.  At 
the  end  of  each  corridor  was  a  basin  with  two 
tall  taps  standing  so  high  above  it  that  they 
splashed  all  over  the  place  whenever  they  were 
turned  on.  One  day  a  beautiful  little  eel,  about 
five  inches  long,  came  merrily  through  into  my 
tooth-wash  glass. 

One  could  secure  a  little  privacy  by  locking 
the  door  into  the  dining  salon,  but  there  was  no 


EASTWARD  HO!  137 

guarantee  that  one's  opposite  neighbors  would  not 
want  to  wash  and  pounce  out  at  inopportune  mo- 
ments. In  the  morning  I  managed  by  rising  very 
early,  and  during  the  day  I  would  watch  until 
my  neighbors  were  on  deck,  then  lock  the  corridor 
door  until  I  had  had  a  soul-satisfying  scrub. 

The  food  was  horrible  and  the  service  worse. 
We  had  terrific  storms  and  there  were  frequent 
rumors  of  submarines — though  how  anyone  could 
have  detected  their  presence  in  such  rough  seas 
passes  my  comprehension. 

At  Patras  we  got  the  news  of  the  flight  of  Mr. 
Venizelos  to  Crete  and  immediately  the  young 
Greeks  on  board  were  aflame  with  patriotism. 

As  has  been  often  told,  King  Constantine  of 
Greece  had  been  more  than  suspected  of  playing 
a  double  game  with  the  Allies.  His  former  Prime 
Minister,  Eleutherios  Venizelos,  great  patriot  and 
true  friend  of  the  Allies,  had  protested  in  vain 
against  the  secret  pro-Germanism  of  the  King's 
policy  but  in  vain.  The  Queen,  a  sister  of  the 
Kaiser,  had  a  most  malign  influence  over  her  hus- 
band and  he  was  as  wax  in  her  hands.  While 


138  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

King  Constantine  was  assuring  the  Allies  of  his 
friendly  neutrality,  he  was  secretly  corresponding 
with  Wilhelm  of  Germany  and  assuring  him  that 
it  was  only  fear  of  Allied  pressure  that  restrained 
him  from  openly  declaring  his  sympathy  with  the 
Central  Powers. 

Nearly  every  one  of  the  Greek  patriots  on  our 
ship  left  us  to  go  by  a  vessel  just  about  to  leave 
the  harbor,  which  would  arrive  in  Athens  a  few 
hours  before  we  should.  They  declared  their  in- 
tention of  defjdng  the  King  and  aiding  Mr.  Veni- 
zelos  in  setting  up  a  Government  which  would  in- 
sure the  integrity  of  Greece  and  balk  the  Pro- 
German  plot  of  the  Court.  Many  of  these  young 
men  I  afterwards  saw  in  Salonika  with  the  forces 
of  the  Provisional  Government. 

On  arrival  at  Athens,  we  found  the  whole  town 
humming  with  excitement.  The  guards  around 
the  palace  were  doubled  and  at  all  hours  of  the 
day  and  night  small  groups  of  cavalry  would  dash 
past  the  hotel  or  we  would  hear  the  shuffle  and 
tramp  of  hoofs.  Squads  of  French  marines 
were  marching  through  the  principal  streets 


EASTWARD  HO!  139 

and  one  night  a  mob  threatened  to  stone  the 
French  Legation.  No  one  was  allowed  to  walk 
on  the  Legation  side  of  the  street  after  that. 

The  first  morning  I  was  in  Athens  a  friend  said 
that  if  I  would  ask  I  could  have  an  audience  with 
the  Queen,  but  my  cold  was  so  bad  that  it  seemed 
unwise  to  do  so  since  I  did  not  wish  to  court 
influenza.  In  the  afternoon  a  similar  suggestion 
was  made  with  regard  to  an  interview  with  Prin- 
cess Andrew,  sister-in-law  of  the  King,  to  which 
I  gave  the  same  excuse. 

I  hoped  to  see  Mr.  Venizelos  and  hear  from  his 
own  lips  the  true  state  of  affairs,  if  I  could  get  to 
Salonika  (I  believe  that  it  was  well  known  in  the 
Greek  Court  that  I  had  no  desire  to  see  the  Queen 
before  I  did  know  the  truth).  The  American  Min- 
ister, Dr.  Garrett-Droppers,  assured  me  that  this 
was  impossible  as  Salonika  was  a  "port  of  war" 
and  entirely  under  military  control.  No  person 
who  was  not  actually  engaged  in  some  way  in  the 
conduct  of  the  war,  was  supposed  to  be  allowed  to 
go  there  and  the  restrictions  were  very  severe. 


140  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

However,  he  offered  to  introduce  me  to  Sir  Fran- 
cis Elliott,  the  British  Minister. 

The  interview  was  very  short.  Sir  Francis 
seemed  in  a  very  nervous  state,  which  was  small 
wonder  considering  the  heavy  responsibilities  de- 
volving upon  him.  So  after  Dr.  Droppers  had 
told  him  my  aims  and  wishes,  I  spoke  up: 

"Sir  Francis,  I  know  how  busy  you  are 
and  so  I  will  not  waste  your  time.  If  you  can 
let  me  go  say  so,  and  if  you  cannot  I'll  just  go 
away  and  try  to  be  satisfied."  The  Minister 
looked  at  me  sharply  a  moment. 

"We'll  see  what  we  can  do,"  he  replied. 

Calling  his  secretary,  he  sent  us  down  stairs  to 
the  Bureau  des  Allies.  Here  I  filled  in  the  usual 
application  form  and  produced  the  perpetually 
required  photographs.  Then  I  was  ushered  out 
into  the  garden  where  a  thick-set,  youngish-look- 
ing man  in  a  bowler  hat,  looked  into  my  very 
soul  and  asked  a  few  more  questions.  Then  he 
asked  Dr.  Droppers  something  which  I  did  not 
hear,  and  turning  to  me,  said,  "This  passport 
must  be  visecd  by  the  French,  English,  Italian  and 


EASTWARD  HO!  141 

American  Consuls  here.  That  will  take  time  but 
when  it  is  done  you  may  go  to  Salonika." 

"I'll  start  on  it  now  so  as  to  sail  tomorrow," 
I  answered.  Everybody  laughed  at  my  hurry 
and  the  official  said: 

"Well,  if  you  are  in  such  haste,  I  will  attend  to 
it  for  you.  It  will  probably  cost  about  fifteen 
francs  in  Consular  fees  and  I  will  send  the  pass- 
port around  to  you,  in  order,  this  evening." 

I  was  amazed  at  his  kindness,  for  everybody 
was  rushed  to  death  in  Athens  at  that  time  owing 
to  the  unsettled  state  of  Greek  affairs  and  the 
very  real  danger  to  the  Legation  from  Anti- 
Venizelist  mobs. 

During  my  short  stay  in  Athens  I  was  much 
surprised  at  the  very  outspoken  way  in  which  the 
Greek  situation  was  discussed  by  the  public.  In 
restaurants,  cafes,  shops  and  hotels  no  one  mod- 
erated his  voice  in  commending  Mr.  Venizelos  and 
criticising  the  King.  I  heard  officers  in  uniform 
openly  say  that  if  Constantine  did  not  come  out 
plainly  on  the  side  of  the  Allies  at  once  they 
would  join  the  ex-Premier  in  Salonika  on  his 


142  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

arrival  there,  which  was  expected  to  take  place 
about  ten  days  later. 

The  hairdresser  at  the  hotel  told  me  gravely 
that  Mr.  Venizelos  was  "divine"  and  that  his  every 
word  was  "inspired  by  God."  The  man  was  in- 
telligent and  fairly  well  educated  and  said 
thousands  of  Athenians  felt  and  believed  as  he 
did.  I  was  much  interested  as  I  had  heard  both 
foreign  residents  and  Greek  officers  say  this  was 
the  popular  feeling. 

In  the  evening  a  messenger  arrived  with  my 
passports.  The  next  morning  I  spent  at  New 
Phaleron  where  I  inspected  the  Frothingham  In- 
stitute, an  establishment  where  Serbian  orphans 
were  being  cared  for  by  the  great  generosity  of 
John  Frothingham  of  New  York. 

These  children  had  been  gathered  from  refugee 
camps  where  they  were  wandering  forlorn  and  in 
terrible  condition,  having  become  separated  from 
their  parents.  I  was  told  that  all  had  been  in 
an  extremely  bad  state  when  taken  in  charge  by 
the  institute.  Then  they  were  starved  and  ill, 


EASTWARD  HO!  143 

suffering  from  skin  diseases,  frost  bites  and  vari- 
ous injuries. 

But  when  I  saw  them  they  were  well  and 
looked  happy,  though  on  many  of  the  little 
faces  there  were  the  ineffaceable  traces  of  the  suf- 
fering they  had  undergone.  They  filed  before 
me,  shaking  hands  solemnly,  and  saying  in  Eng- 
lish, "How  do  you  do."  I  had  come  prepared  with 
a  large  box  of  sugared  almonds,  one  of  which  I 
popped  into  each  little  mouth  to  the  surprise  and 
joy  of  the  recipients. 

Then  the  boys  and  girls  stood  in  a  group  and 
sang  the  Serbian  National  Anthem  and  "Yankee 
Doodle  came  to  town,  riding  in  a  ponee."  Even 
the  tiniest  tot  put  up  his  little  head,  opened  his 
wee  mouth  wide  and  sang  out  lustily. 

While  I  was  talking  to  the  children  one  was 
referred  to  as  "Our  bad  boy."  The  boy 
evidently  understood  what  was  said  for  he 
hung  his  head  and  looked  very  sheepish.  Then 
they  told  me  that  one  of  his  exploits  within  the 
past  twenty-four  hours  had  been  to  climb  a  tele- 
graph pole  in  front  of  the  institute  and  encourage 


144  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

the  little  boys  to  do  the  same  until  the  poles  from 
end  to  end  of  the  road  were  draped  with  cheering 
Serbian  orphans.  And  another  of  his  pranks  was 
to  turn  the  tap  of  the  big  water  reservoir  to  see 
the  water  splash  and  run  away  down  the  dusty 
garden.  As  all  the  water  had  to  be  brought  by 
hand,  this  was  quite  a  serious  piece  of  mischief. 
However,  I  looked  at  him  and  said: 

"I  like  bad  boys  for  I  believe  that  if  a  child 
knows  he  is  bad  he  generally  tries  very  hard  to 
be  good,  and,  if  he  tries  hard  enough  he  generally 
succeeds  in  laying  the  foundation  of  a  good 
character  and  becomes  a  fine  man — so  I  do  like 
bad  boys."  This  seemed  a  surprising  point  of 
view  and  all  the  children  said  they  would  try  to  be 
good!  When  I  went  away  the  children  all  stood 
on  the  steps  and  cheered  lustily,  "Hurrah  for 
America." 

At  noon,  Miss  Simmonds,  an  American  Red 
Cross  nurse  who  has  done  wonderful  work  for  the 
Serbians,  joined  me  on  board  one  of  the  small 
steamers  and  after  many  formalities  we  sailed. 

There  were  three  separate  alarms  of  submarines 


EASTWARD  HO!  145 

the  first  day  out.  At  every  port  we  touched  there 
were  Venizelist  demonstrations  by  the  five  hundred 
or  more  volunteers  who  sailed  with  us.  At  Volo 
feeling  between  our  fellow-passengers  and  the 
townspeople  ran  high  and  shouts  of  "Zito,  Venize- 
los"  by  those  on  board  and  the  yells  of  opprobrium 
from  the  shore  were  deafening. 

On  deck  the  people  were  packed  like  sardines 
both  day  and  night  because  few  of  the  men  took 
berths  owing  to  the  warm  weather.  My  canvas 
deck-chair  reeked  with  garlic  after  the  first  night, 
so  I  knew  that  some  would-be  warrior  had  slept  in 
it.  Miss  Simmonds  and  I  had  been  lucky  enough 
to  get  a  tiny  cabin  to  ourselves, — so  tiny  that  we 
had  to  dress  in  our  bunks  much  as  one  does  in  a 
sleeping  car.  The  food  was  very  good  and  the 
boat  scrupulously  clean,  which  was  explained  by 
the  fact  that  the  owners  are  Scotch.  These  boats, 
and  those  of  the  Italian  line  by  which  I  returned, 
were  very  enjoyable  exceptions  to  the  usual  run 
of  boats  out  there.  The  Greek  vessels  are  simply 
abominable  in  every  detail,  of  food,  service  and 
accommodation. 


146  A  NATION   AT  BAY 

Miss  Simmonds  (or  "Emmy  Lou"  as  she  was 
called  by  her  intimates),  Mr.  Herbert  Corey,  the 
war  correspondent,  and  Mr.  Petchar,  a  Serbian 
Government  official  who  had  been  charged  to  look 
after  me  by  Mr.  Balougditch,  Serbian  Minister  to 
Greece,  and  I  formed  the  party  of  four  which  gen- 
erally managed  to  occupy  the  whole  platform,  and 
here  we  argued  and  gossiped  and  settled  the 
Affairs  of  Nations  to  our  heart's  content. 

Approaching  Salonika,  we  had  to  wait  some 
time  for  the  examining  officials  to  come  on  board 
and  were  much  interested  in  watching  life  on  a 
cruiser  which  lay  close  by.  It  was  near  sunset 
and  t^e  fishing  boats  were  coming  in.  They  were 
a  lovely  sight  with  their  patched  sails  shining  like 
gold  in  the  orange  glow  from  the  West  and  their 
hulls  painted  rosy  pink,  vivid  green  or  deep  ma- 
roon. Before  us  lay  the  curving  line  of  buoys 
marking  the  guarded  entrance  to  the  harbor,  and, 
rising  across  the  bay,  Eternal  Olympus  watching 
over  all. 

At  the  last  moment  we  were  allowed  to  enter — 
the  entrance  is  closed  at  sunset — and  I  saw  a 


Eniilv  Louisa   Simmons 


EASTWARD  HO!  147 

different  harbor  from  the  one  of  a  year  earlier. 
It  was  now  filled  with  war  vessels,  great  battle- 
ships, cruisers,  destroyers;  tiny  launches  darted 
in  and  out ;  bugle  calls  floated  over  the  water  and 
the  circling  aeroplanes  came  slowly  down  the  sky. 
A  huge  hydro-aeroplane  swooped  down  to  the 
surface  of  the  bay  like  a  monstrous  dragon-fly, 
while,  stately  and  beautiful  in  their  pure  white 
paint  with  the  green  band  around  their  hulls  and 
the  great  red  cross  painted  on  each  side,  lay  the 
splendid  ships,  with  their  loads  of  sick  and 
wounded  men — the  Hospital  Ships.  Two  or  three 
of  these  cleared  daily  for  Malta,  or  France,  or 
England,  so  great  was  the  burden  of  sickness  and 
wounds  laid  upon  the  "Armies  of  the  Orient." 
Some  of  these  vessels  were  attacked  by  submarines 
and,  as  AVC  know,  in  several  instances  the  Hun  sat- 
isfied his  blood-lust  with  the  lives  of  these  broken 
and  suffering  men  and  the  nurses  and  doctors  who 
tended  them. 


CHAPTER 

SALONIKA 


THE  harbor  of  Salonika  when  I  arrived  from 
Athens  was  crowded  with  Allied  troops  and  all 
the  paraphernalia  of  war. 

A  new  Custom  House  and  large,  clean  ware- 
houses had  been  built  since  my  last  visit  and  ships 
were  unloading  stores,  provisions,  munitions,  guns, 
ambulances,  troops,  hospital  units  and  kicking 
mules  in  a  seemingly  inextricable  jam.  Mountains 
of  baled  hay  were  neatly  stacked  near  the  shore- 
end  of  the  docks  and  bags  of  oats  were  piled  up 
beside  them.  Lumber  and  mysterious  cases  filled 
another  enormous  space  while  winding  in  and  out 
among  the  press  came  columns  of  troops  looking 
fit  for  any  work  —  or  play  ! 

The  whole  town  was  aflutter  with  the  Allied 
flags  now  settling  slowly  down  as  night  fell.  My 
old  room  at  the  Olympos  Palace  was  ready  and 

148 


SALONIKA  149 

friends  came  to  call  as  a  preceding  boat  had 
brought  word  that  I  hoped  to  come. 

The  town  was  clamorous  with  troops  of  a  dozen 
nationalities  and  every  shade  of  color — English, 
French,  Russians,  Italians,  Serbians,  Annamese, 
Senegalese,  Congolese,  and  American  war  corre- 
spondents bravely  clad  in  tweed  or  khaki.  There 
were  nurses  in  white  and  blue  and  gray,  doctors, 
surgeons  and  orderlies ;  Greeks,  Jews,  Serbians 
and  Macedonian  refugees.  Every  known  language 
seemed  to  be  spoken  and  every  tint  of  the  rainbow 
worn.  It  was  like  a  tapestry  of  color  woven  on 
a  background  of  khaki  and  hung  against  the 
white  walls  of  the  old  Thessalonian  city. 

I  have  been  told  that  "women  who  ask  ques- 
tions" were  particularly  unwelcome  to  the  author- 
ities, so  I  set  about  my  business  very  silently. 
The  only  questions  I  ever  asked  were  absolutely 
concerned  with  my  own  work  and  I  soon  found 
plenty  of  that  to  occupy  me. 

First  there  were  the  American  and  Serbian 
Consuls  to  be  seen.  Mr.  Kehl,  the  American  Con- 
sul, was  far  from  cordial  when  I  first  saw  him, 


150  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

and  after  a  short  conversation  I  could  not  blame 
him. 

It  appeared  that  various  relief  organizations 
in  America,  our  own  among  them,  had  been  send- 
ing goods  out  to  Salonika  "in  care  of  the  Ameri- 
can Consul"  with  a  calm  request  that  these  large 
boxes  and  bales  should  be  forwarded  to  Nish  or 
Monastir,  or  be  distributed  among  the  camps 
there  in  Salonika,  but  omitting  to  send  funds  for 
the  freight  or  portage. 

This,  therefore,  had  to  be  paid  out  of  the  Con- 
sul's own  pocket,  as  the  associations  had  no  repre- 
sentatives on  the  spot  to  whom  he  could  apply, 
and  naturally  the  Consul  felt  the  imposition. 
It  was,  of  course,  merely  lack  of  thought  on 
the  part  of  those  who  had  sent  the  goods, 
but  when  I  promised  to  see  that  the  matter 
should  be  corrected  Mr.  Kelil,  who  is  only 
too  glad  to  help  in  the  good  work,  forgave  us  all 
and  both  he  and  Mrs.  Kehl  were  very  kind  to  me 
during  my  stay  in  Salonika.  Then,  accompanied 
by  Mies  Simmonds,  I  began  the  round  of  the  hos- 
pitals and  camps. 


SALON  KA  151 

There  were  many  pitiful  sights  and  many  more 
heart-breaking  stories,  but,  on  the  whole,  the  poor 
refugees  were  comfortably  housed  in  tents  and 
wooden  barracks  and  a  school  had  been  started 
for  the  children.  Many  of  these  had  lost  their 
parents  or,  in  some  cases,  the  parents  were  so 
dazed  with  the  misery  they  had  endured  that  the 
little  ones  were  almost  as  badly  off  as  if  they  were 
actually  orphaned.  Miss  Simmonds  was  to  take 
some  of  these  children  back  to  New  Phaleron  to 
be  cared  for  by  the  Frothingham  Institute. 

In  the  tent  wards  of  the  Scottish  Women's  Hos- 
pitals I  saw  many  Serbian  soldiers  and  among  them 
three  old  friends,  soldiers  who  had  been  in  Madam 
Grouitch's  hospital  in  Belgrade  three  years  be- 
fore. They  remembered  me  and  called  out  feebly 
"Sestro,  Vinchestare !"  They  had  not  forgotten 
that  I  had  told  them  I  had  lived  in  Winchester 
and  that  the  people  there  would  send  aid  to  the 
sick  and  suffering  of  Serbia. 

In  several  other  hospitals  the  Serbians  were  be- 
ing cared  for  by  the  English  and  French  and  one 
day  in  the  Place  Liberte,  I  came  face  to  face  with 


152  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

that  splendid  woman,  Dr.  Rosalie  Slaughter  Mor- 
ton. She  had  been  warmly  welcomed  at  Salonika 
and  was  invited  to  work  with  the  French  surgeons 
among  the  Serbian  wounded. 

My  work  in  Salonika  was  to  inspect  the  con- 
dition of  the  refugees  in  the  camps  and  hospitals ; 
to  find  out  just  what  form  of  effort  on  the  part  of 
my  Committee  in  America  would  be  most  accept- 
able; to  straighten  out  the  questions  of  the  for- 
warding of  freight  to  different  points  by  the  kind- 
ness of  the  American  Consuls  and  of  funds  for 
such  forwarding,  porterage,  etc. ;  these  last  not 
the  least  important  items  since  we  were  sending 
large  quantities  of  foodstuffs  and  clothing  as  well 
as  medical  supplies.  This  took  time  for  every- 
body was  so  busy  that  I  often  had  to  go  several 
times  to  get  a  ten-minute  interview  with  some  man 
who  really  had  not  ten  seconds  to  spare. 

But  I  had  not  taken  this  long,  dangerous  and 
fearfully  expensive  trip  to  be  balked  by  volumes  of 
detail.  So  I  inspected,  investigated,  questioned 
and  worried  everybody  and  everything  that  con- 
cerned Serbian  Relief  until  mv  note-book  was  full 


SALONIKA  153 

and  every  vexed  point  had  been  covered  and  thor- 

ouglily  cleared  up. 

When  I  started  back  to  face  my  Com- 
mittee, if  there  was  anything  that  I  did  not 
know  about  refugees  or  hospitals  for  Serbians 
or  general  relief  in  refugee  camps,  that  thing  was 
not  worth  discussing!  My  work  was  done. 

Miss  Simmonds,  Mr.  Corey  and  I  used  to  desert 
the  hotels  and  dine  at  the  "Restaurant  of  the 
White  Tower,"  where  the  food  was  excellent  and 
the  service  passable.  Here  we  would  often  invite 
one  or  two  of  the  youthful  British  officers  to  join 
us  for  coffee  and  it  was  really  touching  to  see  how 
glad  these  lonely,  home-sick  boys  were  to  talk  with 
people  of  their  "own  kind."  The  nurses  and  doc- 
tors are,  as  a  rule,  too  busy  to  talk  to  them  unless 
they  are  ill  and,  though  there  was  a  large  amount 
of  feminine  society  to  be  found  in  the  restaurants 
and  concert  halls,  it  was  of  a  particularly  undesir- 
able type.  On  my  return  to  England,  I  carried 
many  messages  to  the  parents  of  these  young  men 
and  they  were  most  appreciative  of  such  "uncen- 


154  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

sored"  news  as  I  could  give.  I  do  not  mean  that 
I  carried  forbidden  letters  but  oral  messages  which, 
brought  by  one  who  had  talked  recently  with  their 
dear  sons,  were  very  precious. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
OFF  TO  THE  FRONT 

AFTER  I  had  completed  my  work  in  Serbia  and 
was  preparing  to  depart  for  England  and  Amer- 
ica to  continue  the  solicitation  of  funds  for  the 
Serbian  cause,  I  was  invited  to  call  on  Colonel 
Dr.  Sondermayer,  head  of  the  Military  Medical 
Service  of  the  Serbian  Army.  In  spite  of  his 
Teutonic  sounding  name  the  Colonel  is  a  true  and 
patriotic  Serb,  but  he  speaks  only  Serbian  and 
German.  During  my  visit  at  his  office,  he  hap- 
pened to  mention  that  he  was  going  up  to  Ostrovo 
on  the  following  day. 

At  this  I  started  forward  and  said,  "I'd  give 
a  year  of  my  life  for  such  an  opportunity." 

My  work  in  Serbia  prior  to  this  time  had  been 

confined    to    hospital    and    administration    work, 

both  in  the  Bulgarian  War  and  during  the  typhus 

epidemic  at  the  beginning  of  the  European  War. 

155 


156  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

And  at  this  time  I  was  about  to  return  to  the 
United  States  to  continue  the  War  Relief  work 
on  the  lecture  platform,  which  I  had  started  the 
year  before. 

I  had  been  at  the  front  before  in  former  years, 
and  I  had  seen  the  war  in  all  its  severity  but 
things  had  now  changed.  Serbia  was  for  the  mo- 
ment not  at  bay.  With  the  Allied  aid  she  was 
actually  driving  the  enemy  back,  back  over  the 
tortured  country.  Here  was  the  chance  to  see 
Serbia  regenerated,  doggedly  contesting  every 
inch  of  the  advance  to  her  capital  at  Belgrade. 

So  when  Colonel  Sondermayer  said  he  would 
take  me  with  him  on  his  next  trip,  I  was  quite  un- 
able to  eat  or  sleep  for  excitement.  It  wasn't  mor- 
bid curiosity.  Heaven  knows  I  had  seen  enough 
that  was  morbid  in  the  three  previous  years.  I 
wanted  to  see  the  Allied  soldiers  winning — driving 
back  the  enemy — victorious. 

It  was  not  until  five  days  later,  however,  that 
Colonel  Sondermayer  dashed  into  the  hotel  with 
the  demand  "Can  you  be  ready  in  half  an  hour?" 

"Of  course,"   I  replied.    In  ten  minutes  Miss 


OFF  TO  THE  FRONT  157 

Simmonds  had  lent  me  a  soldier's  cap  and  other 
military  paraphernalia.  A  Red  Cross  brassard 
was  pinned  on  my  arm  and  with  a  tooth  brush, 
soap  and  not  much  else  in  a  knitting  bag,  I  was 
ready  to  go  to  the  Front. 

This  was  the  inauspicious  and  particularly  un- 
impressive way  in  which  I  started  on  my  career 
as  a  soldier. 

The  town  was  jammed  with  people,  as  Mr. 
Venizclos  was  to  arrive  that  day.  The  streets 
and  houses  were  decorated  with  flags  and  wreaths 
of  flowers ;  brilliant  draperies  flaunted  from  the 
windows  and  all  wheel-traffic  in  the  main  streets 
was  halted.  We  crept  out  of  town  through  the 
narrowest  back  streets  one  ever  imagined.  Every 
soul  in  Macedonia  seemed  to  be  coming  into  town 
and  it  is  little  exaggeration  to  say  that  we  were 
the  only  ones  going  out. 

Our  rattling  Ford  seemed  to  eat  up  the  miles 
as  we  flashed  past  the  English  and  French  camps 
and  over  the  level  plains,  with  now  and  then  a 
stone  hut  or  a  ruined  cottage,  an  occasional  shep- 
herd or  goat-herd  with  their  flocks  and  now  and 


158  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

again  a  dead  horse  with  a  pack  of  wild  dogs  tear- 
ing and  fighting  over  his  thin  carcass.  There 
were  little  groups  of  gaunt  unhappy-looking  peas- 
ants squatting  by  the  roadside  or  wearily  plod- 
ding on  toward  the  city.  Some  were  Greeks,  some 
were  Macedonians,  but  many  were  obviously  Ser- 
bians. 

Just  at  sunset  we  came  to  a  long  ridge  of  low 
hills  and  on  their  slopes,  blending  with  the  earth 
and  rocks  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  nearly  invisible 
from  a  little  distance,  were  the  tents  of  the  Ser- 
bian Escadrille.  Colonel  Sondermayer's  son  was 
stationed  here.  We  stopped  just  long  enough  to 
wish  him  good-luck  and  went  on  our  way. 

Around  the  turn  of  the  ridge  we  glimpsed  a 
great  tent  hospital  capable  of  holding  a  thousand 
men.  Above  it  pegged,  out  on  the  slope  and  visible 
to  aeroplanes  for  miles,  was  an  enormous  white 
expanse  of  canvas  with  a  huge  red  cross  in  the 
middle.  This  hospital  has  been  bombed  by  enemy 
airmen  several  times  and  a  number  of  patients  and 
others  have  been  killed.  Kultur  is  practised  on 
the  Eastern  front  as  well  as  in  France ! 


»-' '    /•"*" 

tKWm*> 

Colonel  Doctor  Sondermaver 


-. 


! 


OFF  TO  THE  FRONT  159 

The  moon  came  up  and  we  started  climbing. 
Trees  and  bushes  began  to  stand  out  sharply  in 
the  silvery  light  and  the  sound  of  water  rushing 
down  the  rocky  crevices  by  the  roadside  told  us 
that  we  were  approaching  Vodena,  ("The 
Waters")  a  hill-town  of  great  antiquity.  The 
wall  of  rock  rose  higher  on  our  right  and  on  the 
left  we  could  now  see  the  flash  of  a  waterfall. 
Suddenly  a  turn  in  the  road  plunged  us  into  a 
street — but  such  a  street! 

It  was  narrow  and  paved  with  rough  stones 
over  which  we  bounced  and  swayed  perilously.  On 
either  side  were  low,  open  shops  like  those  in  any 
Eastern  bazaar,  trees  often  growing  up  through 
the  overhanging  eaves,  the  sides  and  counter  hung 
and  piled  with  bright-hued  wares.  For  some 
reason  there  was  a  great  quantity  of  vivid  red 
cotton  goods  everywhere  displayed,  though  I  never 
saw  any  of  it  in  use, — except  as  forming  the  great 
red  crosses  invariably  pegged  out  on  the  ground 
near  tent  hospitals.  Frequently  in  the  middle  of 
the  street,  which  widened  to  allow  traffic  to  pass, 


160  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

were  great  trees  and  an  occasional  public  fountain 
with  a  rude  drinking-trough  for  the  animals. 

Coming  out  into  a  broader  street,  we  saw  before 
us  a  dimly-lighted  white  building  much  more  pre- 
tentious than  any  we  had  seen  since  leaving 
Salonika  and  here  we  got  out  of  the  car  (to  the 
great  relief  of  our  stiffened  limbs)  and  entered  a 
large  room  with  a  few  tables  scattered  about  and 
a  long  counter,  or  bar,  at  one  side.  There  were 
several  Serbian  officers  and  a  few  civilians  drink- 
ing coffee  and  talking  excitedly  and  they  told  us 
that  an  enemy  airplane  had  been  detected  ap- 
proaching the  town  about  an  hour  before,  but  it 
had  veered  away  to  the  east  without  doing  any 
damage.  Everyone  was  wondering  if  it  would 
return.  A  supper  of  coarse  bread,  rather  "musty" 
fried  eggs  and  beer  was  placed  before  us  and  we 
had,  of  course,  the  inevitable  coffee,  hot  and 
syrupy  as  it  is  always  served  in  the  Balkans. 

Then  a  grimy  man,  who  seemed  to  be  the  pro- 
prietor, showed  me  up  to  a  small  room  containing 
two  beds  of  particularly  uninviting  aspect,  a 
washstand  with  a  very  small  jug  and  basin,  no 


OFF  TO  THE  FRONT  161 

water,  and  a  rickety  chest  of  drawers  with  a  mir- 
ror over  it  which  distorted  one's  face  into  a  most 
hideous  grimace.  On  my  demand  for  water,  the 
man  brought  me  a  tin  mug  full  (perhaps  a 
quart),  and  a  towel  as  thin  as  paper  about  eight- 
een inches  square  and  with  a  very  large  hole  in 
the  middle  of  it! 

With  these  facilities  having  somewhat  removed 
the  stains  of  travel,  I  prepared  to  retire. 

At  the  earliest  peep  of  day  I  was  outside  the 
hotel  and  glad  to  be  there.  Going  around 
the  corner  where  the  Colonel's  window  was, 
I  whistled  and  in  a  moment  there  was  a 
head  out  of  every  window  except  his.  Just  at 
that  minute  he  appeared  around  the  corner  and 
seeing  me  he  clapped  his  hand  to  his  head  and 
exclaimed,  "Heavens,  what  a  night !"  and  I  gath- 
ered that  he,  too,  had  had  his  troubles. 

As  I  absolutely  refused  to  enter  the  place  again 
we  got  the  car  and  went  up  to  the  railroad  station 
where  some  Serbian  military  map-makers  had  a 
camp;  here  we  were  most  cordially  received  and  had 
breakfast.  Seated  on  soap-boxes  we  were  served 


162  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

with  bread,  Scotch  short-bread,  goat's  cheese  and 
copiously-sweetened  tea  served  in  glasses. 

It  was  all  done  so  kindly  and  with  such  exquisite 
courtesy  that  the  odd  fare  seemed  to  be  the  best 
one  could  possibly  have  and  I  shall  long  remember 
that  hour  spent  at  the  camp  at  Vodena  station 
while  the  sun  cast  a  rosy  glow  on  the  distant 
mountains,  and  birds  began  to  sing  just  as  if 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  sorrow  or  mortal 
agony,  nor  half  our  world  bathed  in  blood. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

"THE  AMERICAN  UNIT" 

AFTER  breakfast  Colonel  Sondermayer  had  to 
inspect  a  train-load  of  sick  and  wounded  men  who 
were  on  their  way  down  to  Salonika  from  the 
front.  I  went  with  him.  Two  Serbian  ladies  were 
distributing  cigarettes  and  chocolate  to  the  men 
who  packed  the  train.  The  sick  men  sat  on  the 
seats  with  the  worst  cases  lying  across  their  knees 
or  on  the  floor. 

They  were  a  pitiful  sight.  Even  the  longed- 
for  cigarettes  could  not  bring  a  smile — just 
a  languid  half  salute  and  a  murmured  "Fala." 
There  was  a  constant  stream  of  fever-stricken 
men  being  sent  down  at  that  time,  though 
the  Serbians  stood  the  climate  infinitely  better 
than  the  French  and  English. 

Just  before  the  sun  rose  we  packed  ourselves 
into  the  Ford  and  started  for  Ostrovo.  Passing 


164  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

again  through  the  town,  we  stopped  at  a  tobacco 
shop  and  bought  out  the  stock  of  cigarettes,  as 
AVC  had  heard  that  the  wounded  near  the  Front 
had  been  three  days  without  them. 

All  the  little  shops  were  open  and  peasants  were 
coming  in  with  ox-wagons  filled  with  straw  and 
vegetables.  An  officer  on  horseback  dashed  up  to 
the  car,  asked  a  question  or  two,  saluted  and  gal- 
loped away.  Sentries  stepped  forward,  saw  the 
uniform  and  red  crosses,  saluted  and  stepped 
back  into  their  doorways.  Rattling,  bumping  and 
skidding,  we  crept  out  of  town  and  began  our 
descent  from  Vodena. 

The  dust  was  deep  and  came  up  in  clouds  while 
the  air  before  us  was  dim  with  it.  A  French  sol- 
dier, in  the  gray-blue  uniform,  and  with  his  steel 
helmet  painted  the  same  shade,  sat  panting  by  the 
roadside  and  ten  yards  further  on  we  passed  two 
more.  Then  rounding  a  rocky  corner  we  came 
upon  the  rear  guard  of  a  column  of  French  and 
Senegalese  troops  on  their  way  to  the  Front. 

We  had  to  enter  at  the  rear  of  this  column  and 
work  our  way  carefully  through.  It  was  exceed- 


THE  AMERICAN  UNIT  165 

ingly  dangerous,  both  for  us  and  for  the  soldiers, 
since  the  dust  made  it  impossible  to  see  anything 
more  than  ten  feet  ahead.  We  would  crawl  through 
the  masses  of  men  and  dash  past  a  huge  "camion," 
only  to  pull  up  with  a  jerk  to  avoid  an  officer  on 
a  sweating,  plunging  horse,  or  a  mule  laden  with 
bulging  mysterious  burdens  closely  covered  with 
canvas  and  roped  to  the  high  pack-saddle. 

The  Colonel  was  nearly  strangled  by  the  dust. 
He  kept  his  handkerchief  over  mouth  and  nose, 
only  removing  it  to  shout  to  the  men  to  make  way. 
As  he  knew  they  would  not  understand  Serbian 
he  fell  into  the  common  error  of  thinking  that  his 
only  foreign  language  would  be  more  intelligible 
so  used  German! 

Of  course,  the  French  soldiers,  seeing  our  uni- 
forms and  brassards,  and  the  red  cross  on  the 
car,  knew  that  we  were  all  right,  but  the  big 
Senegalese,  hearing  the  "hated  language,"  brought 
their  rifles  forward  with  a  threatening  ges- 
ture which  made  it  necessary  for  me  hastily  to 
lean  out  and,  in  my  very  best  French,  beg  them 
to  please  make  way  for  "M.  le  Docteur  Serb." 


166  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

These  Senegalese  were  fine  fellows  and  in  their 
horizon-blue  French  uniform,  with  the  "soup 
basin"  steel  helmet,  were  very  formidable  in  ap- 
pearance. They  were  a  cheerful  lot,  jok- 
ing and  singing,  in  spite  of  the  heat  and  dust 
which  made  their  brown  faces  look  like  wet  choco- 
late and  their  eyelashes  and  woolly  hair  resemble 
jute. 

Their  white  teeth  and  eyeballs  gleaming, 
they  roared  and  rollicked  along.  I  saw  one 
jet-black,  bullet-headed  youth  sitting  by  the  road- 
side addressing  a  merry  ditty  to  his  big,  blistered 
black  foot  while  two  others,  roaring  with  laughter, 
prepared  to  soap  the  inside  of  his  boot.  The 
Frenchmen  appeared  full  of  nervous  energy, 
though  they  did  not  sing  or  laugh.  Often  they 
saluted  our  cross  and  once  or  twice  they  gave  us  a 
hearty  cheer,  crying  "Vive  la  Serbia,"  as  we 
passed. 

At  last  we  gained  the  head  of  the  column  and 
here  a  fine-looking  French  officer  rode  beside  us 
for  a  time,  asking  questions.  Everybody  seemed  to 
have  the  question  habit  except  me !  At  last  he  left 


THE  AMERICAN  UNIT  167 

us  with  many  good  wishes  and  compliments  on 
both  sides.  The  country  was  now  very  beautiful 
and  fine  military  roads  were  in  process  of  being 
made.  We  often  turned  off  on  to  the  level  turf  to 
avoid  a  long  stretch  of  newly-dumped  road  Ma- 
terial, or  places  where  the  road  bed  had  been  ex- 
cavated in  preparation  for  it. 

On  our  left  were  the  long  slopes  of  rolling  hills 
and  on  the  right  a  calm  river  with  willows  over- 
hanging the  water  whence  occasionally  a  few  wild 
ducks,  or  a  big  blue  heron  would  rise  and  fly  away 
as  we  dashed  by.  If  I  often  refer  to  our  mode 
of  progress  as  "dashing"  it  is  because  that  ex- 
actly describes  it.  We  would  "dash"  along  at  a 
good  speed,  hit  a  rock  or  a  big  hole,  slow  down  a 
minute  to  make  sure  that  our  engine  was  still  in 
its  place,  then  "dash"  on  until  we  struck  another 
obstacle ! 

After  a  couple  of  hours'  ride,  we  halted  before 
a  gap  in  the  low  hills,  which  now  lay  on  our  right, 
and  between  them  I  saw  a  lovely  sight.  Imagine 
a  group  of  white  tents,  with  neat  walks  bordered 
by  stones  running  before  and  between  them,  and 


168  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

,1 

in  a  large  open  space  great  trees  spreading  their 
branches  over  an  altar  before  another,  much  larger 
tent;  among  them  busy  women  in  gray,  or 
whJte,  or  khaki.  Small  ambulances  stood  in  front 
of  v.  white  tent  in  the  immediate  foreground  and 
nearby  gossiped  a  little  group  of  men  who,  I 
found,  were  convalescent  Serbian  soldiers  acting 
as  stretcher-bearers. 

This  was  the  American  Unit  of  the  Scottish 
Women's  Hospitals  which  had  been  established 
in  Corsica  with  money  raised  by  Miss  Burke 
and  myself  in  America  in  the  spring.  It  had 
been  removed  from  Corsica  and  set  up  at  Ostrovo 
when  the  Serbian  troops  pushed  northward  and 
into  their  own  country  again. 

The  doctors,  surgeons,  nurses  and  ambulance 
drivers  were  all  women  and  these  latter  were  often 
young  girls  who  had  been  brought  up  in  the 
utmost  luxury.  But  here  they  were,  in  khaki  skirt, 
flannel  shirt,  heavy  boots  and  with  hair  "bobbed" 
to  save  the  trouble  of  dressing  it,  driving  their 
cars  up  to  the  dressing  station  or  to  the  railway, 
in  sun,  wind,  or  rain,  by  day  or  night,  hopping 


THE  AMERICAN  UNIT  169 

down  to  do  their  own  repairs  or  to  "doctor"  a 
balky  engine.  And  all  these  devoted  women  had 
only  one  word  of  complaint — that  they  were  not 
allowed  to  establish  themselves  nearer  the  firing 
line. 

Their  head  was  Dr.  Bennett,  a  most  efficient  and 
capable  person,  a  strict  disciplinarian  and  pos- 
sessing a  particularly  "British"  personality.  She 
came,  I  believe,  from  New  Zealand,  and  the  con- 
duct of  her  hospital  proved  the  highly  executive 
ability  of  a  voting  woman!  If  American  women 
only  prove  themselves  as  able  in  this  war  as  the 
British  women  have  done,  the  American  men  will 
have  to  look  to  their  laurels  at  the  polls  or  all  the 
offices  will  soon  be  held  by  the  newly-made  "citi- 
zens." 

I  was  shown  through  the  immaculate  wards  of 
the  hospital  and  distributed  the  cigarettes  which 
we  had  bought  at  Vodena.  It  was  touching  to  see 
how  eagerly  the  men  watched  our  approach.  In 
many  cases  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  put  the 
cigarette  into  the  wounded  man's  mouth  and 
light  it  for  him.  Then  a  box  would  be  l,eft  be- 


170  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

tween  each  two  men  to  be  shared  by  them.  As 
we  looked  back  from  the  door  of  each  tent  a 
feeble  cheer  of  "Givela  Amerika"  followed  us.  At 
the  entrance  of  one  tent  lay  a  dying  man  who, 
when  he  saw  my  basket,  gasped,  "Sestro,  cigar- 
ette." I  put  one  in  his  mouth,  lighted  it ;  he  drew 
a  deep  breath  and  died  the  happier  because  he 
had  tobacco. 

In  another  ward  lay  a  young  man  not  of  the 
Serbian  type.  As  I  paused  to  put  the  cigarette 
into  his  mouth  the  nurse  said,  "He  is  a  Bulgarian 
officer  who  was  taken  prisoner  last  night."  The 
man,  hearing  the  word,  "Bulgarian,"  shrank  from 
me  and  a  look  of  defiance  came  into  his  eyes.  But 
to  any  woman  who  has  nursed  wounded  men,  any 
injured  man  is  only  a  poor  boy,  so  I  laid  my  hand 
on  his  forehead  and  smoothed  back  his  hair.  The 
tears  came  into  his  eyes  and  rolled  down  his  pale 
cheeks.  Then  with  his  left  hand  he  raised  the 
coverlet  and  showed  me  the  stump  of  his  right 
arm.  The  nurse  said  that  his  right  leg,  too,  was 
so  mangled  that  they  did  not  know  whether  they 
could  save  it. 


Major  Doctor  Gelibert  at  Salonika  and  Surgeons  of  Scottish 
Woman's  Hospital 


THE  AMERICAN  UNIT  171 

Later  in  the  day,  the  Prince-Regent,  Alexan- 
der, made  a  tour  of  inspection  through  the  hos- 
pital and  when  he  came  to  this  bed  he  asked  the 
man  if  he  was  well  treated  there  : 

"Yes,  Prince,"  said  the  Bulgar. 

"Did  you  think  you  would  receive  kindness  at 
our  hands?"  asked  Prince  Alexander: 

"No,  Prince,"  was  the  reply. 

"Why  not?"     No  answer. 

"Is  it  because  you  treat  our  wounded  and  pris- 
oners so  cruelly?"  demanded  the  Prince.  The 
man's  face  turned  slowly  crimson  as  he  replied 
in  a  low  voice,  "Yes,  Prince." 

A  Mass  was  held  under  the  trees  for  the  souls 
of  the  men  who  had  died  in  that  hospital. 
Prince  Alexander,  Prince  George,  Admiral  Trou- 
bridge  and  a  number  of  other  distinguished  offi- 
cers, Serbian,  French  and  English  were  present. 
The  medical  staff  of  the  hospital  stood  facing  the 
Royal  party,  at  right  angles  to  the  nurses  and 
visitors.  The  tents  made  a  background  for  the 
altar  and  the  gorgeously  vestmented  priest,  and  a 
convalescent  Serbian  soldier  served  as  acolyte. 


172  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

It  was  an  unforgettable  scene,  this  little  nook 
between  the  hills  only  visible  from  the  road  directly 
before  it  or  from  the  sky  overhead,  in  which  lay 
pain  and  sacrifice,  death  and  life,  fearless  men  and 
devoted  women.  Over  us  the  red  cross  and  the 
blue  sky,  in  the  soft  air  the  smell  of  incense  and 
solemn  murmured  words  of  prayer. 

It  was  the  first  time  Prince  Alexander  had 
visited  this  hospital  and  a  luncheon  had  been  pre- 
pared. The  mess  tent  was  decorated  with  flags  in 
his  honor  and  long  white  tables  were  placed  along 
the  sides.  The  Prince-Regent  sat  at  the  middle 
one  with  Dr.  Bennett  on  his  right  and  myself  on 
his  left.  Beyond  Dr.  Bennett  was  Prince  George 
and  at  my  left  sat  Admiral  Troubridge,  a  hand- 
some white-haired  Englishman  who  had  distin- 
guished himself  by  suddenly  appearing  by  some 
mysterious  route,  on  the  Danube  early  in  the 
war  with  a  British  gun  boat,  and  who  is  now 
attached  to  Prince  Alexander's  Staff.  Opposite 
was  General  Vassitch,  Chief  of  Staff  and  Colonel 
Dr.  Sondermayer. 

The  Prince  was  most  interested  in  hearing  of 


THE  AMERICAN  UNIT  173 

my  work  in  America  and  asked  many  questions  as 
to  America's  attitude  toward  the  war  and  espec- 
ially toward  Serbia.  He  urged  me  to  tell  my 
friends  in  America  how  deeply  he  appreciated 
what  America  had  done,  and  was  doing,  for  his 
suffering  people  and  said  he  wished  to  see 
me  in  Salonika  before  I  returned  home  that  we 
might  have  a  further  talk. 

"But,  Madame,  you  must  have  seen  many  hos- 
pitals," he  added.  "If  you  want  to  see  real  war 
and  conditions  out  here,  why  do  you  not  go  up 
nearer  to  the  front?" 

"Your  Highness,  I  would  like  to  go  as  far  as 
possible,"  I  replied.  He  spoke  across  the  table  to 
General  Vassitch,  who  saluted,  then  turned  to  me. 

"How  far  do  you  want  to  go?"  he  asked. 

"Just  as  far  as  you  will  allow  me,"  was  my 
quick  answer.  They  all  laughed  and  Colonel 
Sondermayer  got  his  instructions,  which  were  to 
take  me  up  to  Old  Vrbeni,  the  headquarters  of 
Voivode  Mishitch,  Commander-in-Chief  of  the 
Serbian  Army. 

So  my  wildest  hopes  were  realized.  I  was  to  see 
the  battle  front ! 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

APPROACHING  THE  BATTLE  LINE 

AT  this  time  the  Serbians,  French  and  English 
had  succeeded  in  driving  the  enemy  back  as  far 
as  a  place  called  Brtid  on  a  very  recent  offensive, 
flere  both  sides  had  "dug  in."  The  Serbian 
lines  were  just  outside  Brod,  while  the  enemy  lines 
ran  through  the  streets  of  this  Serbian  town. 
Thither  we  directed  our  course  the  day  following 
my  official  permission. 

The  afternoon  of  my  last  day  at  the  hospital 
K'as  spent  in  climbing  the  hills  around  the 
hospital  whence  we  could  get  glimpses  of  the 
town  of  Ostrovo  and  of  the  road  leading 
away  to  the  Front.  Occasionally  an  ambulance 
Tould  crawl  out  of  the  far  hills  and  come  down 
the  winding  road  to  the  hospital.  Now  and 
again  an  aeroplane  would  float  into  view  and 
circle  about,  reflected  in  the  glassy  mirror  of  the 
174 


APPROACHING  THE  BATTLE  LINE    175 

Lake  of  Ostrovo — and  then  suddenly  dart  away 
in  the  direction  of  Fiorina. 

That  evening  Dr.  Bennett,  Colonel  Sonder- 
mayer  and  I  dined  with  General  Vassitch  in  an 
upper  room  of  a  stone  house  in  the  ruined  and 
almost  deserted  village  nearby.  The  entrance 
was  through  a  gap  in  a  rough  wall,  then  through  a 
cobbled  courtyard  which  had  once  evidently  been  a 
cow-byre,  and  up  a  flight  of  dangerously  uneven 
stone  steps.  The  room  was  roughly  plastered 
but  dazzlingly  bright  with  fresh  whitewash  and 
around  the  rude  table,  which  stretched  from  end 
to  end  of  the  place,  were  a  most  splendid  lot  of 
keen-eyed,  bronzed,  broad-shouldered  Serbian  offi- 
cers. 

The  General  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table.  He 
was  studying  English  and  improved  his  oppor- 
tunity by  practicing  it  on  us.  He  was  reading 
Dickens,  he  told  us,  and  he  was  most  enthusiastic 
over  it.  Nearly  all  these  officers  spoke  either 
French  or  German  and  conversation  was  as  gen- 
eral as  the  long  table  would  permit.  Toasts  were 
drunk  in  the  light  native  wines,  songs  were  sung 


176  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

and  old  campaigns  fought  over.  It  was 
a  most  exhilarating  evening  and  I  at  last  left 
the  hospitable  gathering  and  went  out  into  the 
brilliant  October  night  feeling  that  "Life  is  full 
of  a  number  of  things"  and  that  it  was  given  to 
me  to  share  most  fully  in  it. 

I  slept  at  the  hospital  that  night,  and  having 
been  assigned  to  the  tent  of  an  absent  member  of 
the  Unit,  I  was  soon  in  bed — but,  alas,  I  could  not 
sleep. 

A  camp  cot  is  a  length  of  canvas  on  a 
frame,  and  if  you  know  how  to  manage  you  can 
sleep  on  it  with  great  comfort,  but  I  did  not  have 
the  necessary  knowledge.  There  were  plenty  of 
warm  covers  that  had  been  placed  on  the  cot  by 
kindly  hands,  but  I  felt  nearly  frozen.  It  was 
a  very  cold  night  and  my  coat  and  dress 
and  a  mackintosh  which  was  in  the  tent  were  all 
piled  on  top  of  me  by  morning — and  still  I  shiv- 
ered. No  one  had  thought  to  tell  me — and  I  did 
not  discover  until  too  late  to  profit  by  it — that 
one  must  put  something  warm  under  one  in  a  camp 
bed,  else  there  is  nothing  between  one  and  the  chilly 


APPROACHING  THE  BATTLE  LINE    177 

air  but  a  sheet  and  one  thickness  of  cold,  hard 
canvas. 

This  was  the  second  night  of  wakefulness,  but 
dawn  found  me  eager  and  ready  for  another  long 
day  of  adventurous  effort.  After  a  hasty  break- 
fast we  bade  the  splendid  women  of  the  hospital 
good-by  and  started  again  toward  the  sound  of 
the  guns. 

Along  the  shores  of  the  beautiful  lake,  with 
its  tiny  islands  bathed  in  the  rosy  light  of 
just-bef ore-sunrise,  through  a  valley  of  deep  clog- 
ging sand  and  then  a  long  ascent  into  the  rocky 
hills  over  which  our  gallant  Ford  struggled  and 
coughed  and  rattled  and  tugged.  Sometimes  we 
would  have  to  wait,  turned  sidewise  on  some 
almost  precipitous  slope  while  the  engine  gathered 
itself  together  for  some  supreme  effort  to  get  us 
to  the  top.  Once  there,  we  slid  and  bounded  and 
almost  tumbled  down  over  big  stones  and  holes, 
only  to  begin  another  toilsome  climb  worse  than 
the  last. 

We  overtook  and  passed  the  French  troops  of 
our  yesterday's  meeting,  but  now  they  were  seated 


178  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

by  the  roadside,  having  their  morning  meal,  and 
they  waved  their  steel  helmets  and  cheered  as  we 
joggled  by. 

At  the  edge  of  a  level  plain  the  road 
branched  away  to  the  left  to  the  French  base  at 
Fiorina,  but  we  kept  to  the  right  until  the  road 
curved  into  a  little  ruined  village — Old  Vrbeni. 
From  the  moment  we  took  the  road  at  the  fork 
the  flat  country  had  shown  signs  of  the  heavy 
fighting  which  had  so  recently  taken  place  over  all 
this  territory. 

Everywhere  were  rolls  of  cruel  barbed-wire, 
neatly  stacked  shell  cases  and  the  baskets 
in  which  they  arc  handled,  broken  rifles, 
scraps  of  metal  and  all  the  various  debris  of 
battle.  The  earth  looked  like  rudely  plowed  land, 
so  pitted  and  torn  with  shell  holes  was  it,  and 
everywhere  were  the  rude  earthworks  which  had 
been  thrown  up  by  Serb  and  Bulgar.  Sometimes 
these  were  a  long  line  of  mud  embankments  behind 
which  many  men  could  shelter ;  but  more  often  the 
earth  was  scooped  out  in  a  tiny  nest  like  a  hare's 
""form."  Some  of  these  faced  North  and  some 


APPROACHING  THE  BATTLE  LINE    179 

South.  There  were  many  into  which  the  earth 
had  been  roughly  shoveled  back  and  we  knew  that 
these  held  Bulgarian  dead. 

The  Serbians  were  buried  in  plots  of  ground 
carefully  marked  off  by  rows  of  field  stones; 
over  the  graves  were  small  wooden  crosses,  new 
and  shining — yellow  like  gold.  When  we  passed 
one  of  these,  my  companions  crossed  themselves 
and  I  think  we  all  offered  up  a  silent  prayer  for 
brave  men  living  who  are  fighting  for  all  that  is 
true  and  just  on  earth,  for  liberty  and  for  peace; 
and  for  brave  men  dead,  who  had  fallen  for  these 
glorious  ideals. 

Our  car  was  turned  through  a  gap  in  the  hedge 
and  we  rolled  into  a  level  field.  Before  us  we  saw 
a  tent  into  which  stretchers  holding  motionless 
forms  were  being  carried.  This  was  the  dress- 
ing station  nearest  to  the  Serbian  line.  Within 
the  tent  soldiers  with  their  wounds  dressed 
lay  upon  the  bare  ground,  at  best  with  only  a 
handful  of  straw  under  them  and  still  in  their 
ragged  and  soiled  uniforms. 

There  were  no   ambulances  up  there  and  the 


180  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

wounded  were  brought  in  from  the  battlefield  on 
stretchers  carried  by  two  men.  We  saw  also  a 
curious  contrivance  of  two  large  wheels  with  a  sort 
of  stretcher  hung  from  the  axles.  This  could  be 
managed  by  one  man,  though  as  it  jolted  over 
the  stony  ground  the  wounded  man  would  groan 
in  agony.  Every  time  a  man  would  cry  out 
Colonel  Sondermayer  would  flinch  and  his  eyes 
grow  dark  with  pain.  When  he  spoke  to  or  ex- 
amined men  in  the  tents  he  was  like  a  tender  father. 
The  soldiers  adored  him. 

After  half  an  hour  we  went  on  to  an  inn  on  the 
other  side  of  the  village,  and  here  I  was  presented 
to  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Serbian  Army, 
Voivode  Mishitch.  Not  tall,  rather  lightly  built, 
this  wonderful  soldier  does  not  impress  a  stranger 
with  a  sense  of  power  until  one  meets  the  full, 
direct  look  of  his  eyes.  Then  one  sees  that  here 
is  a  man.  Calm,  impersonal,  his  look  bores  into 
one's  inmost  being,  and  I  should  not  care  to  see 
him  angry — with  me  at  any  rate. 

He  was  much  interested  in  hearing  of  my  work 
and  asked  if  I  wanted  to  go  yet  nearer  to  the 


APPROACHING  THE  BATTLE  LINE    181 

battle  line.  To  my  emphatic  affirmative  he  said, 
"We  will  see  what  can  be  done,"  and  after  we  had 
had  coffee,  Major  Todorovitch,  his  aide-de-camp, 
was  sent  for,  given  his  instructions,  and  we  bade 
the  Voivode  "au  revoir,"  climbed  into  our  faithful 
car  and  started  again  toward  the  roaring  guns. 

Just  outside  the  village  stood  a  group  of  cap- 
tive Bulgarian  officers,  whose  guards  saluted  us, 
grinning  with  triumph  as  we  passed.  About  a 
mile  further  on  we  saw  eight  hundred  or  more 
Bulgarian  prisoners  in  their  earth-brown  uni- 
forms standing  in  groups  by  the  roadside  or 
bathing  their  feet  in  the  ditch.  The  Serbian 
guards  were  sharing  their  scanty  store  of  tobacco 
with  these  men  and,  remembering  the  horrors  of 
the  Bulgarians'  treatment  of  Serbian  prisoners 
and  wounded  upon  the  battle-field,  I  could  only 
wonder  at  their  charity. 

In  the  almost  demolished  villages  we  saw  rag- 
ged, haggard  women  winnowing  corn,  tossing  it 
in  the  air  with  weary  gestures,  while  near  them  sat 
the  pale,  emaciated  children  who  had  forgotten 
how  to  romp  and  play, — whose  only  thought  now 


182  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

seemed  to  be  "when  shall  we  get  something  to 
eat?"  I  picked  up  a  little  child  and  tried  to 
fondle  her,  but  she  shrank  away  and  began  to  wail 
in  a  feeble,  frightened  way  and  I  had  to  turn  her 
over  to  her  mother  for  comfort.  Further  along 
the  road  a  little  girl  lying  on  the  low  bank  smiled 
at  me,  but  her  yellow  skin  drawn  over  the  sharp 
bones  told  a  tragic  story.  I  stopped  the  car  and 
went  back  to  see  if  I  could  do  anything,  but  when 
I  spoke  to  her  she  did  not  answer.  I  took  her  in 
my  arms  but  she  was  already  dead.  "What  was 
the  trouble?"  I  asked. 

"She  was  my  child.  She  had  great  hunger,"  the 
mother  replied  simply.  I  gave  the  mother  some 
cakes  of  chocolate,  which  was  all  I  had  with  me, 
and  some  money,  but  the  low  voiced  "Fala"  of 
these  wretched  people  was  so  hopeless  that  the 
tears  ran  down  my  face  and  I  felt  that  my  heart 
would  break. 

Now  the  road  was  over  rough  undulations  of 
ground,  brown  and  sterile  in  appearance  and  with 
low  mountains  rising  before  me.  Suddenly  Major 
Todorovitch  turning,  cried,  "Look !' — and  far  up 


APPROACHING  THE  BATTLE  LINE    183 

in  the  blue  sky  I  saw  a  flash  of  silver  as  the  sun 
glinted  on  a  wire  or  a  wing.  Behind  it  in  the 
clear  air  grew  suddenly  three  tiny,  fleecy  puffs  of 
cloud — then  three  more — and  three  more.  The 
plane  must  have  been  "burning  the  wind,"  as  it 
was  not  visible  to  us  for  more  than  five  minutes 
altogether,  and  we  had  seen  it  as  soon  as  it 
lifted  over  the  mountains  before  us.  It  was  a 
Serbian  machine  and  the  lovely,  soft  cloudlets 
were  the  deadly,  exploding  shrapnel  with  which 
the  enemy  batteries  were  pursuing  it. 

Down  the  hillside  came  a  string  of  mules,  each 
laden  with  a  sort  of  pack-saddle  holding  two  rude 
chair-shaped  structures  and  in  one  of  these  on 
either  side  sat  a  wounded  man.  Other  wounded 
men  began  to  meet  us,  some  with  roughly  bound- 
up  heads  and  with  streaks  of  dried  blood  on  their 
faces ;  some  with  arms  in  improvised  slings  and  one 
boy  who  limped  by  with  a  bandage  around  one  leg 
and  blood  dripping  from  it  to  the  dust. 

Where  two  stones,  rudely  set  in  the  earth, 
marked  a  boundary,  Major  Todorovitch  saluted. 

"Madame,"  he  said,  "I  have  the  honor  to  in- 


184  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

form  you  that  you  are  the  first  woman  of  any 
nationality  to  enter  reconquered  Serbian  terri- 
tory." All  this  time  the  thunder  of  guns  had  been 
growing  louder  and  louder  and  at  last  we  halted 
on  a  little  plateau  on  which  were  a  number  of 
small  tents  and  a  line  of  fine  cavalry  chargers. 
Half  a  dozen  officers,  French  and  Serbian,  came 
out  to  meet  us  and  were  surprised  to  see  a  woman 
— and  above  all,  a  foreign  woman, — there. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  BATTLE 

WHEN  we  came  in  sight  of  the  front  line 
trenches,  the  officers  pointed  out  a  hill  on  No- 
Man's-Land,  situated  between  the  opposing  lines. 
This  hill  had  been  selected  as  the  Serbian  Head- 
quarters' Observation  Post  for  the  coming  battle. 
I  call  it  a  hill,  but  it  was  really  a  small  mountain, 
and  the  guns  from  both  sides  were  considerably 
elevated  to  send  their  shells  over  it  into  the  oppos- 
ing lines. 

I  cannot  say  it  was  the  safest  place  in  the 
world  to  visit  because  a  shell  now  and  then  does 
fall  short.  But  this  hill  was  "as  far  as  possible," 
where  I  had  wanted  to  go — and  I  went. 

I  was  actually  "over  the  top,"  though  not  just 
as  one  who  has  not  been  there  imagines  it.  But 
there  I  was  between  the  enemy  and  our  own  front 
line  trenches,  with  shot  and  shell  screaming  over 

185 


186  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

my  head,  with  men  dying  just  below  and  behind 
me,  and  only  chance  and  a  four-foot-high  rock 
between  me  and  death. 

There  were  no  barbed-wire  entanglements 
erected  before  the  trenches ;  in  fact,  they  had  only 
been  recently  occupied  and  the  line  consolidated. 
Cavalry  had  taken  part  in  the  war  on  the  French 
Front  lately  only  in  the  Cambrai  attack,  but  in 
the  Eastern  Front  cavalry  was  quite  commonly 
used  in  conjunction  with  the  artillery  at  all  times. 

At  this  time  it  was  the  intention  of  our  party 
to  go  across  a  sheltered  section  of  No-Man's-Land 
and  up  that  steep  hill  on  horses — but  unfortu- 
nately I  was  not  dressed  for  riding  war-horses,  so 
we  all  made  the  trip  on  foot.  I  don't  know 
whether  there  is  more  glory  in  getting  killed  going 
"over  the  top"  on  horseback  than  on  one's  own 
feet — but  we  left  the  horses  behind. 

The  officers  wore  obliged  to  toil  up  in  riding 
boots  with  spurs  and  with  the  stiff,  high  collar 
of  the  trim  Serbian  uniform  closely  hooked  up  to 
their  chins.  Up  the  steep,  rocky  mountain  side 
Major  Todorovitch  was  most  gallant,  trying  to 


THE  BATTLE  187 

help  me  over  the  roughest  places,  but  as  the  path 
was  exceedingly  narrow,  I  soon  found  it  easier  for 
both  when  we  walked  in  single  file. 

The  sun  poured  down  upon  us  and  a  sultry 
Indian  Summer  haze  spread  over  the  valley  below 
us.  In  the  tiny  village  of  Bee  far  down  on  our 
left  the  enemy  shells  were  falling  and  the  thunder 
of  hidden  guns  near  us  was  almost  deafening. 
Some  one  handed  me  a  big  wad  of  cotton  wool 
with  which  I  stuffed  my  ears — just  in  time,  for 
we  suddenly  rounded  a  corner  and  came  upon  a 
group  ef  great  guns  in  full  action.  They  were 
shooting,  with  a  high  trajectory,  over  the  crest 
of  the  mountain  and  their  shells  were  falling  in 
the  village  of  Brod,  just  opposite. 

We  were  not  yet  at  our  destination,  however, 
and  after  another  fifteen  minutes  of  strenuous 
climbing  on  the  twisted  path,  we  scrambled  over  a 
final  stretch  of  slippery  turf  and  found  ourselves 
surrounded  by  a  group  of  officers  who  had  arrived 
there  shortly  before  we  did,  and  were  shel- 
tered under  a  great  rock  on  the  summit.  Colonel 
Milovanovitch,  commanding  the  Morava  Division, 


188  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Colonel  Vemitch,  commanding  the  First  Cavalry 
Regiment,  and  a  number  of  others  were  just  about 
to  take  lunch  and  I  was  at  once  given  a  place  at 
the  table. 

It  was  a  curious  experience.  The  thunder 
of  the  group  of  guns  near  us  had  now  ceased, 
but  the  battle  still  raged  on  the  plain  below. 
After  we  were  a  little  rested  and  refreshed, 
Colonel  Milovanovitch  said,  "Would  you  like  to 
see  what  is  going  on?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "let  me  see  all  there  is  to  be 
seen." 

The  Commander  of  the  Serbians  said,  "Will 
you  go  further  into  Serbia  than  we  have  yet  been, 
Madame?"  And  I,  wondering,  said  "Yes."  "Give 
me  your  hands,"  he  said,  "and  lean  out."  So, 
bending  out  over  the  valley  from  the  brow  of  the 
precipice,  I  went,  by  the  length  of  my  own  bod}-, 
further  into  Beautiful  Serbia  than  the  soldiers  had 
gone. 

From  the  beginning  of  the  war  we  have  been 
told  that  this  war  is  not  spectacular:  that  the 
soldiers  sit  in  their  trenches  and  see  nothing  but 


THE  BATTLE  189 

the  barbed  wire  in  "No-Man's-Land"  and  an  oc- 
casional bursting  shell,  or  have  to  dodge  a 
shower  of  "whiz-bangs"  from  an  invisible  enemy 
when  the  opposing  trenches  are  not  too  far  away. 
Interspersed  with  this  not-too-exciting  mode  of 
warfare  are  the  terrific  artillery  duels,  the  rolling 
clouds  of  poison  gas,  the  fiendish  jets  of  liquid 
fire  and  then,  mercifully,  "over  the  top,"  and 
vengeance  wreaked  upon  the  enemy  with  the  cold 
steel.  Therefore,  when  we  approached  the  line 
of  battle,  I  did  not  in  the  least  know  which  phase 
I  would  see — I  hoped  to  see  it  all! 

Under  shelter  of  the  rock  they  led  me  to  the 
brink  of  a  precipice  and  here  I  was  able  to  stand 
between  two  great  out-cropping  leaves  of  stone, 
while  I  gazed  at  a  battlefield  spread  in  relief 
below.  Level  with  the  face  of  the  precipice,  and 
of  course  far  below  my  eyrie,  were  the  Serbian 
trenches  with  the  big  guns  some  distance  behind 
them  and  the  village,  of  which  mention  already  has 
been  made,  some  distance  away  on  their  left. 

Every  now  and  then  a  Bulgarian  shell  would 
fall  among  the  little  red-tiled  houses  and  a  cloud 


190  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

of  dust  and  whirling  leaves  would  rise,  circle  about 
and  slowly  settle.  Once  a  riderless  horse  galloped 
out  and  then  a  stretcher  was  carried  slowly  away 
toward  the  dressing  station — then  another  and 
another.  From  the  mountains  still  further  to  the 
left,  which  run  like  a  great  spine  from  Fiorina 
to  Monastir  and  sweep  round  beyond  in  a  rocky 
curve,  came  the  great  shells  from  the  French  guns 
and  the  white  and  dun  clouds  of  vapor  from  the 
explosions  formed  constantly  drifting  veils  over 
the  tortured  valley. 

On  our  right  the  Czerna  River  emerged  from 
the  mountains  and  flowed  gently  away  into  the 
hills  again,  and  just  in  the  elbow  of  the  stream — 
the  famous  Czerna  Bend — lay  the  village  of  Brod. 
In  it  Bulgarians  swarmed,  while  their  artillery 
roared  spitefully  just  behind  a  low,  rounded  hill 
near  the  town.  With  the  binoculars  I  could  make 
out  the  earth-brown  figures  of  the  soldiers  and  the 
line  of  a  trench.  Before  us  in  the  distance,  like 
a  cluster  of  pearls  against  the  dark  mountains, 
lay  Monastir,  nine  miles  and  in  the  milling  pro- 
gress of  the  Allies.,  five  weeks  awa}- ! 


THE  BATTLE  191 

The  view  from  the  Observation  Post  was  more 
thrilling  than  anything  I  had  anticipated.  First 
of  all  there  were  few  clouds  of  smoke  to  obscure 
our  view  and  we  were  high  enough  above  the  bat- 
tlefield to  see  all  of  it  at  once.  Even  the  Bul- 
garian trenches  across  the  river  lay  open  to  our 
view,  and  with  the  glasses  I  could  see  their  guns 
slide  forward,  smoke  belching  from  their  mouths, 
and  then  settle  back,  while  a  moment  later  the 
boom-m  of  the  explosion  would  come  dully  to  my 
ears.  Then  the  shell  would  burst  over,  or  near, 
the  trenches  below  me  and  I  would  turn  my  eyes 
away  from  the  welter  of  maimed  and  bloody  forms 
below. 

Once  I  saw  a  group  of  men,  perhaps  eight  of 
them,  mashed  to  a  gory  pulp  by  three  shells  which 
fell  close  together  in  the  Serbian  line,  and  a  man 
close  by  who  had  apparently  been  untouched, 
but  suffered  a  temporary  derangement  due  pos- 
sibly to  tortured  nerves,  sprang  out  of  the  trench 
and,  shaking  his  fists  in  the  direction  of  the  enemy, 
rushed  blindly  forward  toward  the  river,  into 
which  he  plunged  and  was  lost  to  view. 


192  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Still  dazed  and  gasping,  I  heard  Colonel  Milo- 
vanovitch  ask,  "Would  you  like  to  give  the  signal 
for  our  guns  to  recommence  firing?"  and,  shaking 
with  emotion,  I  nodded  assent. 

So,  in  the  name  of  American  Womanhood,  I 
gave  the  signal  which  sent  shells  roaring  over  the 
valley  to  fall  in  the  Bulgarian  trenches.  And  the 
men  behind  me  shouted  "Givela  Amerika!" 

I  was  shaking  from  head  to  foot  with  excite- 
ment and  the  lust  of  battle.  Major  Todorovitch 
spoke, — 

"Calm  yourself,  Madame;  they  have  not  just 
got  our  range  up  here  yet.  When  it  grows  too 
dangerous  we  will  take  you  away." 

"Do  you  think  I  am  afraid?"  I  cried.     "I  never 

lived  before!" 

*         *         *         *         * 


CHAPTER  XX 

How  I  BECAME  A  SOLDIER 

THEY  may  not  have  had  our  range  on  that  hill 
— that  is,  the  snipers  did  not ;  but  it  doesn't  take 
heavy  artillery  long  to  get  the  range  of  the  top 
of  a  hill  in  No  Man's  Land.  The  shells  were 
constantly  coming  closer — those  shells  which  I 
had  just  seen  blow  to  pieces  dozens  of  our  brave 
allies.  Yet,  I  can  truthfully  say,  I  was  not  afraid. 

It  has  been  said  that  "Fools  rush  in  where 
angels  fear  to  tread."  Perhaps  this  was  my  case, 
but  it  was  all  too  thrilling — a  wonderful  experi- 
ence— and  I  could  not  tear  myself  away. 

The  Commander-in-Chief  stepped  up  to  me 
while  the  battle  was  at  its  height. 

"Haven't  you  had  enough  of  it  yet?"  he  asked. 

"No,  Excellency,"  was  my  reply. 

"Well  you  should  have  been  a  soldier,"  he  said. 
193 


194  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

"Make  me  one,"  I  promptly  responded.  The 
Colonel  of  the  First  Cavalry  Regiment  instantly 
put  in  his  word. 

"I  want  her  to  be  made  a  member  of  my  regi- 
ment," said  he.  And  so,  with  the  shells  screaming 
over  our  heads  at  the  most  exciting  moment  of 
my  life  on  that  famous  battlefield  of  Brod,  in 
October,  1916,  I  was  made  a  member  of  the  First 
Cavalry  Regiment  of  the  Royal  Serbian  Army. 

I  was  no  longer  a  woman  helper.  I  was  now  a 
soldier,  and,  as  I  write  this, — the  only  American 
woman  soldier  in  this  great  war. 

After  my  return  to  America,  a  large  parcel 
containing  the  peculiar  cloth  of  the  uniform  of 
the  Serbian  officer  arrived,  with  the  beautiful 
enamel  "Cocarde"  which  is  worn  on  the  cap  of 
every  Serbian  officer.  No  honor  which  Serbia 
could  bestow  upon  me  could  make  me  so  proud  as 
the  right  to  wear  this  uniform,  which  has  been 
rendered  glorious  by  those  heroic  men  who  so 
long  and  so  bravely  have  fought,  and  continue  to 
fight,  against  such  fearful  odds  and  whose  gentle- 
ness and  patience  under  suffering  have  won  the 


.2         .«       S 


M       O     3Q 


HOW  I  BECAME  A  SOLDIER         195 

affection  and  admiration  of  every  person  who  has 
worked  among  them. 

I  was  allowed  to  remain  in  my  rocky  nook  until 
night  began  to  fall  and  then  was  told  to  return 
to  the  dressing  station  and  wait. 

"For  what?"  I  asked,  and  the  Commander  said 
that  he  believed  that  I  had  brought  them  luck  and 
they  would  try  to  cross  the  Czerna  that  night. 

"You  will  let  me  know  when  you  make  the  ad- 
vance," I  begged. 

There  was  a  certain  grim  humor  in  my 
companion's  eye  as  he  said,  "You'll  hear  us." 
And  then  I  had  to  go.  Down  the  mountain  and 
over  the  plains,  passing  stretchers  on  which  lay 
shattered  bodies  and  from  which,  often,  bright 
blood  trickled  down  into  the  dust.  An  unlucky 
stumble  by  a  stretcher-bearer  would  cause  a 
quickly  stifled  moan  from  pale  lips,  and  occasion- 
ally a  brown  hand  would  be  lifted  to  a  bandaged 
head  in  salute  as  we  passed. 

Arriving  again  at  Old  Vrbeni,  the  hospital  staff 
greeted  us  cordially  and  gave  a  cheer  when  they 
were  told  where  I  had  been. 


196  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

"We  hoped  that  you  would  be  with  us  at 
luncheon  and  arranged  to  give  you  a  real 
American  dish  but  as  you  did  not  come  we  will 
have  it  prepared  for  your  dinner,"  said  the  Chief 
Surgeon. 

Now  these  brave  men  were  living  on  the  coarsest 
and  scantiest  of  food  and  the  country  was  denuded 
of  everything,  practicalljT,  so  I  wondered  what 
they  could  have  found  for  me.  After  a  sketchy 
wash-up  we  sat  down,  with  me  at  the  head  of  the 
table  were  the  higher  officers,  within  the  mess  tent, 
and  the  younger  ones  at  the  other  end,  which  ex- 
tended outside.  The  lights  were  dim,  flaring  oil 
lamps  and  the  tables  were  rough  boards  on  trestles. 
There  was  a  heavy  hand-woven  linen  cloth  at  our 
end  and  clean  paper  spread  over  the  places  of 
the  lesser  officers  at  the  other.  We  had  two 
Frenchmen  with  us,  one  a  great  doctor  and  the 
other  a  young  officer,  just  convalescent,  who  sat 
silent  and  brooding  all  through  dinner. 

Such  a  dinner!  In  cur  cars  sounded  the  crash 
and  roar  of  battle,  and  the  moans  of  dying 
men.  Sometimes  a  man  in  the  hospital  tent  be- 


HOW  I  BECAME  A  SOLDIER         197 

hind  us  would  break  into  awful,  hopeless  sobbing 
and  this  would  be  checked  by  the  choking  cough, 
or  horrid  rattle,  which  told  its  own  story  of  a  soul 
passing  into  Eternity.  Around  our  dimly  lit 
table  were  surgeons,  kindly-eyed  doctors,  bronzed 
officers  with  gleaming  orders  on  their  breasts ;  and 
I  felt  my  high  privilege  to  be  sitting  there  with 
men  who  had  given  all,  dared  all,  and  were  pre- 
pared to  suffer  all  for  their  country  and  her 
honor. 

The  "American  dish"  was  served  with  much 
ceremony — a  beautifully  prepared  platter  of  ham 
and  eggs!  Can  you  imagine  how  I  felt? — to  sit 
there  and  eat  this  savory  food  when  the  gallant 
gentlemen  who  entertained  me  for  weeks  past  had 
tasted  nothing  better  than  coarse  bread  and 
stringy  goafs-flesh !  My  throat  rebelled  at  every 
delicious  morsel,  but  to  refuse  would  have  been  not 
only  to  give  pain  but  to  offer  a  deadly  insult  to 
these  proud  men  who  hold  nothing  to  be  too  good 
for  their  guests  and  no  sacrifice  too  great  for 
any  who  befriend  them. 

After  dinner  the  younger  men  played  on  guitars 


198  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

and  sang  haunting  melodies  and  stirring  war- 
songs.  A  peasant  soldier  who  was  brought  in 
read  three  poems  of  his  own  composition.  At 
ease,  and  without  a  trace  of  embarrassment,  he 
took  the  seat  placed  for  him  near  the  least  smoky 
lamp  and  in  a  clear,  musical  voice,  he  recited  a 
wonderful  epic  poem,  which  told  how  the  Crown 
Prince  Alexander,  when  stricken  by  illness  on  the 
awful  march  through  the  snow-filled  passes  of  the 
Albanian  mountains,  refused  to  leave  his  men  in 
order  to  gain  comfort  and  safety  more  quickly. 

"No,"  he  replied  to  their  entreaties,  "I  belong 
to  you  and  my  place  is  here." 

The  pride  of  the  King  in  his  noble  son  and  the 
love  of  the  suffering  people  for  them  both  were 
eulogized.  Next  he  read  a  stirring  battle 

o  c* 

song  and  finished  with  an  exquisite  Song  of 
Home,  telling  of  the  love  of  the  soldier  for  his 
little  white-walled  dwelling  with  its  fields  of  grain, 
its  fruit  trees,  flocks  and  flowers;  the  courage  of 
the  chaste,  deep-bosomed  women  and  the  laughing, 
fiery-spirited  children.  When  he  had  finished  each 
officer  shook  his  hand  and  then  he  turned  to  me, 


HOW  I  BECAME  A  SOLDIER         199 

with  a  true  poet's  look  in  his  blue  eyes,  and  said, 
"I  kiss  the  lady's  hand  for  our  kincl  sister  Amer- 
ica." He  raised  my  hand  to  his  lips  and,  saluting, 
went  out  to  join  the  reserves  who  were  on  their 
way  to  the  trenches. 

Just  as  the  singers  began  another  plaintive 
melody,  there  came  a  sudden  lull  in  the  sound  of 
the  fighting.  Then,  sounding  surprisingly  near 
in  the  keen  autumn  night  air,  came  an  outburst 
of  cheering  when  with  a  renewed  thunder  of  the  big 
guns  doubling  their  fury,  the  cracking  of  machine 
guns  and  the  occasional  bursting  crash  of  bombs, 
the  Serbian  heroes  left  their  trenches,  dashed 
across  the  stretch  of  open  plain  and  crossed  the 
Czerna  River  for  the  first  time  in  their  advance 
to  Monastir.  They  drove  the  Bulgarians  out, 
captured  or  killed  hundreds  and  occupied  the  vil- 
lage of  Brod; — while  we,  back  there  in  the  ruined 
village  of  Old  Vrbeni,  cheered  and  sang  and  prayed 
for  those  who  fought  and  won  and  those  who 
suffered  and  died  in  the  moonlight  on  the  soil  of 
their  loved  Serbia. 

As  the  stretchers  came  in  with  their  piteous 


200  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

burdens  they  were  greeted  with  triumphant  songs 
of  victory,  and  even  men  whose  life  blood  was 
staining  the  shriveled  grass  at  our  feet,  found 
strength  to  mutter  "Givela  Serbia"  before  their 
eyes  closed  forever.  My  own  soul  was  filled  with 
an  amazing  sense  of  glory  and  my  own  country 
seemed  more  dear  than  ever  before, — seeing  what 
men  could  do  for  their  native  land, — and  I  sang 
"America"  in  a  broken  and  sadly  unmusical  voice, 
but  with  all  my  heart  in  the  words,  while  all  those 
blessed,  blessed  men  took  up  the  air  and  at  the 
end  shouted  again  and  again,  "Givela,  Givela, 
Amerika."  Whatever  the  years  may  bring  to  us, 
never  again  can  I  feel  that  Life  has  cheated  me, 
for  in  these  moments  I  lived  and  the  memory  will 
be  mine  forever. 

At  last  the  doctor  insisted  that  I  must  get  some 
rest,  so  I  was  put  into  a  tiny  tent  in  which  a 
great  bunch  of  belated  marigolds  had  been  placed, 
but  there  was  not  room  for  the  flowers  and  me, 
and  so  they  had  to  be  put  under  the  bed  until  I 
•was  in  it,  when  I  brought  them  out  and  propped 
them  again  against  the  canvas  wall.  When  at 


HOW  I  BECAME  A  SOLDIER        201 

last  sleep  came,  it  was  only  in  fitful  snatches,  for 
the  sound  of  the  fighting,  mingled  with  the  low 
murmurs  of  the  wounded  men  in  their  wards  near 
me,  kept  my  mind  full  of  the  excitement  and  exul- 
tation which  had  marked  the  day. 

For  the  next  five  weeks  there  was  continual 
fighting  and  gradually  the  Allied  troops  pushed 
the  enemy  back  with  fearful  losses  on  both  sides. 
Finally  Monastir  was  recaptured  and  our  troops 
entered  the  city  amid  the  happy  tears  and  rejoic- 
ing of  the  people.  But  the  story  of  that  advance, 
with  its  wake  of  blood,  is  not  a  pleasant  thing  to 
describe.  It  was  war  in  all  its  horror,  all  its 
brutality,  all  its  glory.  Serbia's  troops  are  only  a 
little  beyond  Monastir  today.  The  battle-lines 
are  still  drawn  there.  There  is  a  dead-lock  on 
the  Eastern  Front. 

Perhaps  the  Teutons  will  make  another  attempt 
to  push  us  out  of  Serbia.  They  will  not  succeed. 
The  Allied  Armies  must  hold  that  Eastern  gate 
against  all  odds. 

I  might  have  gone  back  this  Spring,  but  General 
Rashitch,  when  he  was  here  with  the  Serbian  Mis- 


202  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

sion  in  January,  said  to  me,  "My  Sergeant,  your 
duty  to  Serbia  is  here,  pleading  her  Cause.  You 
can  do  so  much  good  here  that  I  assign  you  to 
this  work  until  further  orders." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  RETURN 

WHEN  I  started  back  again  to  America  from 
the  battle  front  to  help  the  Serbian  cause  it  was 
with  mixed  feelings  since  every  atom  of  my  being 
was  crying  out  to  remain  with  the  Serbian  troops. 
I  met  Colonel  Sondermaycr  again  at  the  little 
town  of  Old  Vrbeni,  whence  I  had  previously 
started  for  the  scene  of  battle. 

We  planned  to  get  under  way  on  our  return  to 
Salonika  at  dawn.  After  my  night's  sleep 
in  the  hospital  tent,  as  the  first  glimmer  of  day- 
break appeared,  I  was  ready. 

And  here  arose  a  difficulty.  The  orderly  who 
the  night  before  had  laced  the  flaps  of  the  tent — 
first  the  inner  and  then  the  outer  one — had  done 
it  so  securely  that  I  was  unable  to  get  at  the  knots 
which  were,  of  course,  on  the  outside  and  there 
was  nothing  in  the  tent  with  which  I  could  cut  the 
203 


204  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

cords.  Outside  Colonel  Sondermayer  stamped  up 
and  down,  growling  about  women  being  always 
late,  and  there  was  I,  ready  even  to  my  gloves, 
trying  to  make  him  hear  so  that  he  might  let  me 
out !  He  was  making  so  much  noise  himself  that 
it  was  some  time  before  my  despairing  cries  could 
be  heard,  but  at  last  he  did  hear  and  I  was  soon 
free. 

We  had  a  hasty  cup  of  coffee  and  a  slice  of 
toasted  bread  and  started  back  to  Ostrovo. 
Along  the  road  we  met  troops  marching  up  to 
their  bases,  but  were  so  fortunate  as  not  to  get 
caught  in  another  column.  There  were  little 
groups  of  ragged  refugees  straggling  up  the  road 
and  on  one  rocky  stretch  of  break-neck  descent 
we  passed  a  recklessly  bounding  car  from  which 
the  long  arm  of  Prince  George  waved  us  enthusi- 
astic greeting.  The  car  flashed  past  us  with  such 
speed  that  all  we  could  hear  of  his  vociferous 
shouts  was,  "A  la  bonheur,"  and  he  was  gone.  An 
American  nurse  in  Salonika  told  me  that  the  nick- 
name of  His  Highness'  chauffeur  was  "The  Light- 
ning Conductor,"  because  of  his  invariably 


THE  RETURN  205 

speedy  progress.  Remembering  his  uproarious 
passing,  I  suggested  that  his  car  might  be  called 
"The  Stormy  Petrol." 

Again  the  beautiful  Lake  of  Ostrovo  and  thc- 
ruined  stone  village  where  we  had  dined — how  long 
ago  was  it?  Counting  by  days  only  two;  count- 
ing by  emotions,  experiences,  feelings,  at  least  a 
year !  We  drew  up  at  the  gap  in  the  hills  before 
the  Scottish  Women's  Hospital  and  soon  were 
talking  "fourteen  to  the  dozen"  to  Dr.  Bennett, 
who  left  her  work  to  greet  us.  Our  time  was  so 
short  and  we  had  so  much  to  discuss  that  it  was 
only  after  I  was  again  in  the  car  and  Joko  had 
cranked  up  that  I  remembered  the  most  personal 
thing  of  all  and  shouted  above  the  din  of  the  car, 
"I  was  the  very  first  woman  of  any  nationality 
to  enter  re-conquered  Serbian  territor}'."  She 
waved  a  friendly  hand  and  called  "Bravo"  as  we 
turned  into  the  road  and  began  our  journey  to 
Salonika. 

Through  the  long,  lovely  valleys  again,  lunch- 
eon of  bread  and  goat's-cheese  on  a  rock  by  the 
smooth  flowing  river  which  furnished  our  only 


206  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

drink,  then  around  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  which 
stood  Vodena  of  uneasy  memories.  Again,  we 
pulled  up  before  the  low  stone  huts  and  dun- 
colored  tents  of  the  Serbian  Escadrille.  Tadoya, 
Colonel  Sonderinayer's  son,  came  to  escort  us  to 
the  mess  tent. 

Oh,  the  heat  under  that  canvas  top,  "camou- 
flaged" though  it  was  with  green  boughs !  And 
the  young  enthusiasm  of  the  youthful  aviators 
for  their  perilous  work !  They  laughed  and 
sang  and  joked  and  called  me  "Mon  colleague" 
until,  middle-aged  as  I  am,  I  began  to  feel 
that  perhaps  the  thin  red  wine  which  we  were 
drinking  might  actually  be  "the  Elixir  of  Life"; 
and  when  I  found  myself  singing  "Tit  Willow" 
for  them,  I  just  knew  it!  After  this  cheerful 
interlude  we  started  again  toward  Salonika  and 
at  sunset  our  Ford  rolled  along  the  quay  beside 
a  Russian  regiment  which  had  just  disembarked. 

Mr.  Venizelos  had  arrived,  amid  great  rejoicing, 
and  was  comfortably  installed  in  a  fine  villa  about 
two  miles  from  the  center  of  the  town,  where  he 
was,  I  suppose,  the  very  busiest  man  in  Salonika. 


THE  RETURN  207 

With  him  had  come  Captain  George  Melas,  an  old 
friend  of  mine  with  whom  Miss  Simmonds  and  I 
dined  that  evening.  A  formal  dinner  was  being 
given  to  Mr.  Venizelos  in  the  "Concert  Room"  of 
the  White  Tower  restaurant  and  the  lobbies  were 
full  of  Cretan  guards,  in  their  funny  trousers  and 
"pill-box"  caps ;  eagle-eyed  detectives  and  friends 
of  the  great  man  were  in  attendance  too. 

After  dinner  Captain  Melas  asked  if  I  would 
like  to  see  Mr.  Venizelos,  and  I  eagerly  assented. 
So,  with  all  the  frock-coated  and  uniformed 
guards  bowing  and  saluting  at  sight  of  our  escort, 
we  passed  into  the  room  behind  a  line  of  palms  and 
up  a  tiny  staircase  to  the  boxes.  But,  alas,  the 
only  unlocked  door  was  that  of  the  box  directly 
over  the  places  of  honor  and  we  could  only  see 
most  of  the,  to  us,  uninteresting  three  or  four 
hundred  other  men.  Some  of  them  jauntily 
raised  their  glasses  when  they  saw  us  appear,  but 
this  failed  to  amuse  us  and  we  descended  to  our 
little  alley  behind  the  palms  on  our  way  out.  Just 
as  we  got  half-way  to  the  door,  a  gentleman  with 
glasses  and  a  short  white  beard  turned  from  the 


208  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

table  and  looked  directly  at  me.  In  an  instant  I 
recognized  Mr.  Venizelos,  but  then,  a  trifle  panic- 
stricken  at  being  caught  staring,  I  scuttled  out. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning  Captain 
Melas  came  and  told  me  that  Mr.  Venizelos  would 
be  pleased  to  see  me  at  nine.  In  a  flurry  of 
anxiety  as  to  whether  he  would  give  the  order  of 
"Off  with  her  head,"  I  set  out  with  Miss  Sim- 
monds.  It  was  a  lovely  autumn  morning  and  the 
white  villa,  set  in  its  garden  of  palms  and 
late  flowers,  looked  very  beautiful  but  hardly 
peaceful,  as  the  Cretan  guards,  armed  to  the 
teeth,  stood  at  the  gate  and  among  the  trees 
while  detectives  prowled  in  the  streets  and  around 
all  the  corners.  We  went  up  the  broad  marble 
steps  and  in  the  hall  found  groups  of  earnest  and 
solemn  personages  waiting  their  turn  with  the 
distinguished  man.  Everybody  made  way  respect- 
fully for  Captain  Melas  and  we  were  received  by 
General  d'Anglis  and  the  Greek  naval  hero, 
Admiral  Conduriotos. 

After  a  few  minutes  the  people  who  were  with 
Mr.    Venizelos    came    out   and  we  were  at  once 


Eleutherios    Venizelos,    Greek    Premier 


Yodcna 


THE  RETURN  209 

shown  into  the  room.  This  room  was  open  to 
observation  from  the  hall,  one  side  being  com- 
pletely glazed,  so  fearful  were  his  friends  that  he 
might  be  attacked  and  injured.  He  greeted  us 
most  cordially. 

"Madame,  I  find  Ingleesh  veery  deeficult — if 
you  permit  me  French?"  was  his  apology  at  meet- 
ing. Then  for  over  an  hour  this,  the  busiest  man 
in  Greece  at  that  time,  talked  with  me  of  his  plans 
and  aspirations !  He  spoke  of  the  King  and  said 
he  hoped  Constantine  would  see  his  way  to  come 
out  openly  on  the  side  of  the  Allies  "even  now," 
and  that  in  any  case  his  own  duty  was  clear.  He 
gave  messages  for  the  Greeks  in  America,  saying 
that  it  was  their  duty  to  return  and  fight  with 
their  Balkan  Ally. 

"We  Greeks  and  the  Serbians  are  ratural 
friends  and  we  must  stand  together,"  he 
said.  "Tell  them  that  they  must  help  now  for 
the  honor  of  Greece  and  for  her  safety."  In 
America  I  have  given  this  message  repeatedly  in 
my  lectures  but  have  had  no  means  of  knowing  if 
these  noble  words  have  borne  fruit. 


210  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Mr.  Venizelos  is  a.man  of  middle  height,  neither 
stout  nor  thin.  His  fine  forehead  is  surmounted 
by  nearly  snow-white  hair  and  a  well-kept  mus- 
tache and  short  beard  shade  his  always  smiling 
mouth  and  firm  chin,  but  it  is  the  clear  blue  eyes 
with  their  direct  and  honest  gaze  which  hold  one's 
attention  from  the  first  moment  one  meets  him. 
One  feels  that  here  is  a  man,  clean,  sincere  and 
strong.  Before  we  parted  he  smilingly  said,  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "But,  Madame,  I  am  sure 
that  I  have  seen  you  before." 

"Yes,  Excellency,"  was  my  reply.  "Miss  Sim- 
monds  and  I  were  the  only  ladies  present  at  your 
banquet  last  night  and  when  you  turned  your 
head  I  lost  mine."  He  seemed  greatly  amused. 
Then  he  signed  two  photographs  which  he  gave 
to  Miss  Simmonds  and  myself  and,  despite  the 
evident  agitation  of  his  friends  and  body-guards, 
came  out  to  the  top  of  the  steps  with  us  to  say 
good-by.  It  was  dangerous,  too,  for  any  mis- 
creant waiting  an  opportunity  could  have  shot 
him  from  the  street  as  he  stood  there  calmly 
talking. 


THE  RETURN  211 

"How  warm  the  beautiful  sunshine  is  today," 
he  remarked. 

"Excellency,"  I  answered,  "may  you  stand 
always  in  the  sunshine." 

"Ah,  Madame,"  he  said,  "who  can  tell.  But, 
sun  or  shadow,  I  know  my  way." 

We  went  away  feeling  that  we  had  seen  history 
in  the  making — as  indeed  we  had,  and  I  do  believe 
that  while  the  affairs  of  Greece  are  in  the  hands 
of  this  splendid  patriot,  she  will  go  far  toward 
regaining  some  measure  of  her  old  glory. 

The  next  day  my  ship  was  due  to  sail,  so  I  went 
to  the  Provost  Marshal  to  get  permission  to  leave 
as  this  would  save  the  endless  round  of  the  Allied 
Consulates,  which  is  usually  required.  The  Pro- 
vost Marshal  proved  to  be  an  old  acquaint- 
ance whom  I  had  not  seen  for  many  years,  so  we 
had  a  good  talk.  When  I  rose  to  go,  he  said, 
"Do  you  know  we  all  know  you  here  as  the 
'Woman  Who  Asks  No  Question  and  Attends  to 
Her  Own  Business.' '  I  laughed,  gathered  up  my 
documents  and  went  away  feeling  that  my  extreme 
self-restraint  had  not  been  in  vain! 


£12  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

A  visit  to  Mrs.  Kehl  that  afternoon,  a  farewell 
dinner  at  the  White  Tower  and,  later  in  the  even- 
ing, Colonel  Joannu,  famous  Greek  soldier  and 
Venizelist  supporter,  came  in  and,  when  several 
Serbian  officers  joined  us,  we  had  an  international 
"conversazione"  in  which  the  affairs  of  many  na- 
tions were  discussed  and  settled  to  our  own  com- 
plete satisfaction. 

On  the  day  set  for  my  departure,  the  French 
officers  and  doctors  at  "Aviation"  again  in- 
vited me  to  lunch  and  Colonel  Sondermaycr 
arranged  to  call  for  me  just  in  time  for  the 
boat.  When  he  came  he  was  so  flurried  that  I 
was  sure  I  had  missed  it,  but  when  we  turned  off 
the  main  road  into  the  Grande  Quartier  Serbc 
I  said,  "Well,  if  we  ramble  all  over  town  of  course 
we  will  be  late."  The  Colonel  just  sputtered  and 
exclaimed  fiercely,  "Don't  you  know  that  Prince 
Alexander  has  been  waiting  hours  to  see  you?" 
It  was  the  first  I  had  heard  of  it,  but  naturally 
I  was  pleased  with  the  prospect  of  seeing  the 
Prince  before  leaving. 

We  arrived  at  the  "Palace,"  a  great  rambling 


THE  RETURN  213 

villa  in  a  garden  with  a  tall  fence  and  with  pic- 
turesque Serbian  guards  at  the  gates  and  along 
the  paths.  An  immaculate  officer  greeted  us  at 
the  door  and  at  the  top  of  the  marble  staircase 
a  frock-coated  major-domo,  bowing,  met  us.  In 
a  small  irregularly  shaped  room,  paneled  in  bro- 
cade and  filled  with  French  furniture,  we  waited 
and  in  a  few  moments  Prince  Alexander  came  to 
us.  He  is  of  medium  height,  well-built  and  erect, 
with  a  warm  olive  complexion  and  handsome  dark 
eyes  behind  powerful  glasses,  a  direct  earnest  gaze 
and  a  resolute  manner.  He  seems  older  than  his 
actual  years  and  will,  we  all  believe,  be  a  splendid 
King  when  the  time  comes  for  him  to  take  his 
place  upon  the  throne  of  that  Greater  Serbia 
which  the  future  will  bring  to  stand  as  a  strong 
sentinel  in  Eastern  Europe. 

For  an  hour  we  talked  of  Serbia  and  what 
America  has  tried  to  do  for  her  and  of  what  the 
Serbian  Relief  Committees  are  trying  to  do.  The 
Prince  expressed  his  deep  appreciation  and  said 
he  had  hoped  the  seeds  and  farming  imple- 
ments might  be  sent  into  the  country  the  moment 


214  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

the  war  is  over  so  that  the  people  may  plant  and 
reap  a  good  harvest. 

"And,"  he  added,  "when  the  people  have  gath- 
ered their  first  crops  they  will  ask  aid  of  no  one." 
But  zc-'tf,  who  have  seen,  know  how  much  there 
must  be  done  in  sanitary  and  other  matters — 
though  the  people  will  not  ask. 

"You  wear  two  of  our  decorations,  I  see.  I 
want  you  to  wear  a  third  in  token  of  our  grati- 
tude for  all  your  devotion  to  our  cause,"  said 
the  Prince,  leaning  toward  me.  He  held  toward 
me  the  little  blue  and  gold  box  which  contains  the 
coveted  Order  of  St.  Sava !  I  was  surprised  and 
could  only  stammer,  "Does  Your  Highness  think 
I  merit  it?" 

Then  Prince  Alexander  pinned  the  Order  on 
my  coat  saying,  "I  know  no  better  friend  of 
Serbia  than  Ruth  Farnam."  After  a  few 
moments,  he  said,  "You  will  return  soon  to 
help  us  in  Monastir,  will  you  not,  Madame?"  I 
explained  that  my  services  would  probably  be 
much  more  valuable  in  raising  funds  in  America 


THE  RETURN  215 

which  would  enable  the  trained  workers  to  do  their 
work  out  there. 

"But,  I  will  come  back  to  go  with  the  Array 
into  Belgrade!"  I  promised,  and  the  Prince 
replied  that  he  should  hold  that  as  a  promise. 
We  shook  hands,  and  I  fled  for  the  steamer. 

The  steamer  was  waiting  for  me  and  there  was 
a  brilliant  gathering  of  officers  and  officials  on 
board.  Some  were  former  office  holders,  under 
King  Constantine,  now  displaced  by  the  Pro- 
visional Government  of  Mr.  Venizelos ;  and  several 
were  people  who  had  come  to  see  me  off.  There 
Avas  a  great  deal  of  congratulation  over  my  new 
Order  and  many  messages  given  for  friends  in 
Athens  and  Paris,  London  and  New  York,  all  of 
which  I  tried  to  store  into  a  head  which  was 
fairly  whirling  with  excitement. 

Soon  the  whistle  blew  and  our  friends  left  us, 
remaining  on  the  water  in  the  little  boats  until 
our  ship  was  well  away  from  the  anchorage,  and 
even  then  their  shouts  came  faintly  over  the  water 
as  we  moved  out  past  the  war  vessels;  past  the 
great  white  hospital  ships  and  toward  the  barrier 


216  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

of  nets  and  mines  guarding  the  mouth  of  the  har- 
bor. Many  of  our  passengers  were  happily  on 
their  way  to  France  or  England  on  leave,  but  7 
regretted  every  mile  which  took  me  away  from  the 
white  city  and  the  wonderful  men  and  women  who 
were  striving  there  to  win  freedom  and  to  soothe 
the  wounds  of  a  tortured  world. 

If  in  these  pages  I  have  said  little  of  the  splen- 
did women-nurses,  doctors  and  surgeons  who  were 
devotedly  working  in  Salonika  and  nearer  the 
Front,  it  is  not  because  I  did  not  see  them  and 
their  superb  accomplishment  but  because  no  words 
of  mine  could  do  justice  to  them  all. 

There  was  our  famous  Dr.  Rosalie  Slaughter 
Morton,  who  chose  to  spend  her  hard  earned  holi- 
day out  there  helping  to  restore  Serbian  heroes 
to  life  and  hope.  She  made  many  an  American 
heart  beat  faster  with  pride  in  American  woman- 
hood. Another  hard  working  person  was  the 
Princess  Demidov.  There  were  Madame  de  Rei- 
nach-Foussemagne,  Dr.  Honoria  Kcer,  surgeon  in 
the  Scottish  Women's  Hospital,  great  little  Dr. 
Alice  Hutchinson,  Mrs.  Harlcy,  the  sister  of 


THE  RETURN  217 

General  French,  and  who  recently  was  killed  by 
an  exploding  shell  in  Monastir ;  Dr.  Bennett,  and 
a  hundred  more,  every  one  of  whose  names  will  be 
written  in  letters  of  gold  in  the  memories  of  men 
for  their  heroic  service  and  splendid  devotion. 

But  of  all  these,  we  Americans  must  remember 
with  pride  the  name  of  Emily  Louisa  Simmonds, 
an  American  Red  Cross  nurse,  of  British  birth. 
She  was  one  of  the  most  devoted  of  the  noble  and 
gallant  band  who  suffered  and  toiled  untiringly 
and  ungrudgingly  for  Serbia. 

Arriving  again  at  Athens,  I  found  the  city  in  a 
turmoil,  with  Allied  troops — but  mostly  French 
marines — marching  continually  in  the  streets. 
There  would  be  a  sharp  bugle-call  and  from  every 
direction  little  Greek  soldiers  would  run  across 
the  park  before  the  hotel  and  line  up  under  the 
trees.  Officers  with  their  clanking  swords  bang- 
ing on  their  horses'  sides  would  gallop  back  and 
forth  and  one  lived  in  momentary  expectation  of 
an  international  explosion.  Many  of  the  officers 
with  whom  I  had  talked  during  my  last  visit  had 
gone  to  Salonika,  and  every  boat  clearing  from 


218  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

Piraeus  took  dozens  of  recruits.  I  remembered 
Mr.  Yenizelos'  words  to  me,  "We  are  the  natural 
friends  of  Serbia.  Her  sorrows  concern  us  and 
we  must  take  our  stand  beside  her  now  and 
always."' 

There  were  still  Greeks  who  were  loyal  to  the 
Janus-faced  King,  but  even  they  were  complaining 
of  conditions  in  the  country.  Princess  Andrew 
sent  for  me  and  I  went  to  the  Palace.  Before 
her  marriage  she  was  beautiful  Princess  Alice  of 
Battcnberg  and  her  spouse  was  the  brother  of 
the  King. 

She  certainly  was  not  pro-German  but  was  en- 
tirely pro-Greek,  and  since  her  sympathies  were 
all  with  Constantine,  one  can  only  conclude  that 
she  did  not  in  the  least  understand  the  true  state 
of  aiiairs.  She  was  anxious  to  get  me  to  work 
in  America  for  the  Queen?s  Refugee  and  Hospital 
funds.  This  I  readily  promised  to  do,  if  it  would 
not  clash  with  my  work  for  Serbia,  but  was  told 
later  that  these  affairs  were  run  in  a  rather  hap- 
hazard way,  Her  Majesty  not  being  quite  as 
efficient  as  her  Go  mi  MI  training  would  indicate. 


THE  RETURN  219 

On  my  return  to  America  I  spoke  to  several  peo- 
ple about  giving  such  time  as  I  could  to  this  work 
but  met  with  little  response. 

My  calls  upon  the  Legations,  American, 
French,  English  and  Serbian,  took  up  some  time, 
but  on  the  second  day  I  left  for  Marseilles  and, 
arriving  in  Paris  early  one  morning,  left  the  same 
day  for  Boulogne  and  London.  The  journey  was 
long  and  extremely  tedious,  but  as  there  was  a 
convalescent  French  officer  in  our  crowded  com- 
partment who  grew  paler  and  paler  and  at  last 
asked  permission  to  lie  on  the  floor  (among  our 
feet!),  no  one  felt  like  complaining  over  his  own 
little  troubles.  Two  men  and  myself  then  stood 
in  the  corridor,  in  spite  of  the  Frenchman's  pro- 
testations, so  he  had  room  to  rest  in  comparative 
comfort.  At  the  "town"  station  an  Englishman 
met  him,  helped  him  carefully  into  a  cab  and  they 
drove  quickly  off  into  the  darkness. 

The  Channel  boat  was  packed  with  travelers 
and  we  made  the  trip  iu  utter  darkness,  as  subma- 
rines were  prowling  about.  Occasionally  we 
would  see  a  white  gleam  in  the  distance  which  must 


220  A  NATION  AT  BAY 

have  been,  we  all  believed,  the  "wash"  of  our 
guardian,  an  English  destroyer,  but  the  night 
passed  without  any  untoward  happening  and  just 
as  the  sun  rose  we  landed  on  English  shores. 

A  few  days  later  I  set  sail  for  America  to  con- 
tinue my  work  on  the  lecture  platform  and  other- 
wise to  help  the  Allied  cause. 


THE   END 


APPEAL  OF   THE   SERBIAN  WOMEN  TO 
ALL  SOCIETIES  OF  WOMEN 


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~  fe  ^S^i/^^Q1--^-^ !  *  s\  r  ^r  c « ^f  %£t  &  i  - s 

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APPEAL  OF  THE  SERBIAN  WOMEN  TO  ALL 
SOCIETIES  OF  WOMEN 

As  representatives  of  the  National  League  of 
Serbian  Women,  we  some  time  ago  addressed  to 
all  Societies  of  women  in  the  Allied  and  neutral 
countries  an  appeal  begging  them  to  raise  their 
voice  against  the  attacks  on  the  honor  of  Serbian 
women  and  3roung  girls. 

We  consider  it  our  most  sacred  duty,  as  pa- 
triots as  well  as  women,  to  draw  once  more  the 
attention  of  all  feminist  societies  to  the  frightful 
proceedings  to  which  the  Serbian  women  and 
young  girls  who  have  remained  in  Serbia  are 
exposed.  We  base  our  appeal  on  the  formal 
declarations  of  the  Serbian  Government,  and  also 
on  extracts  from  articles  which  have  appeared  in 
the  press  ori  this  subject,  and  we  appeal  to  your 
sentiments  in  the  hope  that  you  will  not  remain 
223 


224  APPEAL  OF  THE  SERBIAN  WOMEN 

indifferent  to  these  shameful  proceedings  against 
the  Serbian  women  and  girls,  in  which  Germans, 
Austro-Hungarians,  Bulgarians  and  Turks  are 
taking  part. 

We  denounce  not  only  the  facts  which  prove 
the  systematic  extermination  of  the  Serbian  male 
population,  but  also  the  dishonoring  and  dis- 
graceful acts  to  which  the  enemy  occupants  of 
Serbia  have  had  recourse  in  delivering  up  young 
Serbian  girls  to  the  Turks  to  be  shut  up  in  the 
harems  of  Constantinople. 

Here  is  authentic  testimony  on  the  subject: 
M.  Pachitch,  the  Serbian  Prime  Minister,  de- 
clared in  London  that  the  Austro-Germans  and 
Turks  have  deported  eight  thousand  young  Ser- 
bian girls,  aged  from  10  to  14  years,  and  have 
shut  them  up  in  the  harems  of  Constantinople. — 

La  Suisse,  August  6th,  1917. 

****** 

Young  girls  of  Serbia,  this  time  the  victims  are 
not  far-off  Armenians,  or  Greek  women  of  Asia, 
already  accustomed  to  oriental  seclusion,  brought 
up  under  the  whip  of  the  Turk,  trembling  slaves 


APPEAL  OF  THE  SERBIAN  WOMEN  225 

from  their  infancy.  These  little  girls  of  Bel- 
grad,  I  saw  them  in  their  families  before  the  war. 
They  were  Europeans,  dressed  like  you,  refined 
like  you,  who  read  books  from  Paris,  and  were 
preparing  themselves  perhaps  to  finish  their  edu- 
cation in  a  boarding-school  in  France  or  in  Eng- 
land. 

But  the  "brave  German  Army"  came,  charged 
with  "kultur"  and  chanting  the  pious  hymn  of 
Luther.  It  killed  or  drove  out  the  men  of  Serbia 
and  set  itself  to  administer  a  country  where  there 
were  left  only  women. 

There,  for  a  true  German  hero  was  the  occasion 
to  show  his  chivalry !  War  is  war,  "Krieg  ist 
Krieg,"  but  women  and  young  girls  are  not  so 
very  dangerous !  That  is  what  the  noble  defender 
of  the  German  fatherland  thought.  He  collected 
eight  thousand  of  them,  the  prettiest,  and  patting 
them  paternally  on  the  cheek,  with  a  big  laugh, 
he  sold  them  to  the  Turk  to  be  put  in  a  cage  and 
to  serve  for  the  relaxation  of  the  Pashas  of  the 
Committee  of  "Union  and  Progress,"  who  will 
hand  them  on  no  doubt  later  on  to  some  Kurdish 


226  APPEAL  OF  THE  SERBIAN  WOMEN 

soldier  of  the  Guards.  That  is  the  gift  of  Wil- 
helm  II  to  his  friends  at  Constantinople.  "Gott 
mit  uns !"  God  is  with  the  honest  German  people, 
chosen  by  Him  to  bring  about  the  reign  of  mo- 
rality on  earth. 

Do  you  feel,  before  this  crime,  the  irony  of  our 
formula  of  peace?  Reparations?  There  are  out- 
rages that  one  cannot  repair.  Guarantees?  Wil- 
helm  is  playing  safe :  he  knows  very  well  that, 
if  we  enter  Germany,  we  shall  not  take  eight  thou- 
sand little  German  girls  of  ten  to  fourteen  years 
old  and  distribute  them  among  our  Senegalese. 
— Maurice  de  Waleft'e  in  Le  Journal. 

It  is  reported  from  Belgrad  that  the  Austrian 
military  authorities,  on  instructions  from  Ger- 
many, have  proceeded  to  a  general  rape  of 
women  and  young  girls  from  ten  to  fourteen  years 
of  age,  without  distinction  of  situation  or  of 
family  responsibility.  Trains  crowded  with  these 
unfortunates,  whose  protests  and  supplications 
are  stifled  by  blows,  have  been  passing  without 
interruption  for  four  days,  going  no  one  knows 
whither. 


APPEAL  OF  THE  SERBIAN  WOMEN  227 

Atrocious  scenes  have  taken  place  in  the  towns 
and  villages  when  the  soldiers  came  to  drag  away 
young  girls  from  their  families  and  mothers  from 
their  children.  Women  have  gone  mad,  young 
girls  have  killed  themselves  to  escape  the  fate 

which  awaited  them. — Le  Temps,  July  15th,  1917. 

****** 

Le  Temps  of  August  8th  published  a  letter 
from  one  of  those  unhappy  Serbian  men  who  were 
obliged  by  the  exactions  and  the  tortures  in- 
flicted by  the  Bulgarian  authorities  in  occupied 
Serbia,  to  take  up  arms  and  attempt  to  deliver 
their  country  and  to  seek  in  death  an  end  to  their 
sufferings.  The  letter  reads  as  follows: 

May,  1917. 

Here  I  am  in  the  mountains,  my  wretched  habi- 
tation at  this  time.  I  escaped  on  April  25th  from 
the  Bulgarian  dungeons,  where  I  was  incarcerated 
with  twenty  comrades,  after  having  been  captured 
in  the  revolt  near  —  — .  There  were  25,000  of 
us  insurgents;  we  fought  first  against  a  German 
division,  which  we  defeated  and  put  to  flight ; 
then  we  were  attacked  by  two  Bulgarian  divisions, 


with  many  cannon  and  machine  guns.  I  was 
taken,  put  in  prison  and  condemned  to  be  hanged ; 

but  at  night  my  friend  made  his  way  in 

with  a  band  into  Prokouplie,  killed  the  sentinels 
and  released  me.  I  was  thus  able  to  escape  to  the 
mountains. 

The  Bulgarians  have  called  up  all  the  male 
population  from  sixteen  to  sixty-five  years,  to  in- 
corporate them  in  the  Army  and  send  them  imme- 
diately to  the  front.  At  the  same  time  they  col- 
lected all  the  young  people  of  thirteen  to  sixt  ?n 
years  and  sent  them  to  Constantinople.  It  was 
this  vandal  act  on  the  part  of  these  monstrous 
Mongols  which  provoked  the  revolt.  The  unhappy 
mothers,  exasperated  by  the  cries  of  their  children 
carried  off  by  force,  attacked  the  Bulgarians  with 
stones.  It  was  a  regular  revolt,  to  which  the 
Bulgarians  responded  by  gibbets  on  which  they 
hanged  women  and  children. 

Here  I  am  now  in  the  mountains  of  . 

It  may  be  that  by  the  time  you  read  these  lines 
I  shall  be  no  longer  among  the  living,  but  the 
insurrection  cannot  be  stifled  so  easily,  for  the 


APPEAL  OF  THE  SERBIAN  WOMEN  229 

Bulgarians  are  proceeding  to  the  systematic  ex- 
termination of  our  nation.  On  the  25th  April 
they  embarked  on  the  trains  at  Belotintze  8000 
children  of  twelve  to  fifteen  years  ;  destination  ; 
Constantinople.  Many  of  the  children  jumped 
from  the  cars  while  the  trains  were  moving,  and 
thus  found  death.  The  Bulgarians  called  up 
the  whole  population  to  be  vaccinated.  But,  in- 
stead of  serum  against  cholera  or  smallpox,  they 
inoculated  them  with  contagious  diseases.  One 
of  the  doctors  made  this  known  to  the  people, 
who  fled  to  the  mountains  with  the  children.  — 

From  La  Serble,  August  19th,  1917. 
Yours  very  truly, 

(  signed) 

First  Vice-President  of  the  National 
League  of  Serbian  Women. 


/•    / 

e\tWl.i>, 


Member^f  the  Central  Committee. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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